Hello everyone, it is Friday, the day when bloggers have a laugh and tell jokes and doughnuts (a Citizen Barnet speciality) and publish poetry and all sorts of stuff that is not necessarily true.
Well today Mr Mustard is evoking the spirit of the late Marjorie Proops (and giving away how old he is) and publishing a letter that might have been sent to her by a One Barnet consultant.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
I hope you can help me as I feel that no-one loves me.
I am a very important consultant who is paid lots and lots of money every day but I just can't face going into work unless my nails are perfectly painted and my hair isn't out of place. I am doing what I am told is a really important job in Barnet but I think the staff talk about me behind my back and use a codename when they talk about me.
They pretend to be nice to me but I don't think they are.
They say they want to put the community first but all they want to do is keep their jobs and it's my job to make lots of them redundant because they are a lazy lot and there are 20 of them too many.
My boss keeps saying to take the money and shut up and that this gravy train won't last much longer before we have to move on. He says we are like the emperor with no clothes - I don't understand him as I always have very nice clothes.
What shall I do?
Yours in hope
Dear Miss P
I can see the problem. You are obviously working on the toxic One Barnet programme and don't worry as everyone has doubts about that.
You have a simple decision to make about yourself. What is most important to you? To be loved or to be rich (well at least not poor and relying on help from Barnet Council). If it is to be rich then carry on but sadly you won't become rich at Barnet Council as your boss is right. The gravy train is about to come off the rails and you will never be happy as you have to make so many other people miserable to do that.
If you want to be loved then give up the fancy clothes and the expensive make-up as it is only a mask. Go to Africa and help to feed starving children and villages that don't have access to clean water to dig a well.
Then you will see what truly matters in life, you will be happy and everyone will love you.
Mr Mustard didn't realise quite how fantastic Marge Proops was. She is now at rest in the Hoop Lane Cemetery, Mr Mustard might pop round himself to see her grave quite soon and she is at peace as Barnet Council cannot sell the cemetery off as they don't own it. Mr Mustard read this obituary in the Independent. It is well worth a read.