Oh what a night. That’s right folks, Busty had a great time at this week’s DMA Awards – well, that’s what everyone is telling me anyway. To be honest, it’s all a bit of blur now. I think I must have had a dodgy drink but I can’t remember if it was the 19th or 20th free glass of vino. Ah well.
Luckily, there are some things I do recall, like bumping into the dashingly handsome DMA boss Chris Combemale. What a lovely chap he is, too, especially since he invited me to join him up in the VIP suite. There was a great view up there, and luckily I was able to avoid the riff-raff.
It’s tough work but someone has to do it, so I set about hob-nobbing it with the great and good of the DM industry, mind you, that could be described as an oxymoron…
Anyway, the creatives were all out in force. Steve Aldridge (hair looked suitably coiffured, although rather disappointingly he appears to have ditched the flock wallpaper suit); Marc Nohr (he was even smiling, due to the fact he’d had a day off from firing people); Cordell Burke (apparently Balloon Dog is, er, ‘flying’); Neil Francis (things must be tough, he can’t afford proper fags – he’s still on the roll-ups); and Chris Martin (no, not the Coldplay singer, that ‘larger than life’ geezer from Targetbase Claydon Heeley).
Given last year’s AIS extravaganza it was a shame there was not a single sighting of the gorgeous Steve Stretton. Maybe he was just washing his hair, maybe he is still in hiding after O2 went to Lida. Thing is, I was even going to give him a Busty Bonus for free to cheer him up… Come on Steve, you know it makes sense.
So I hear you ask, what was the ‘entertainment’ like? Er, sorry but I missed it on account of being outside having a fag, although apparently it was very ‘Richard Stilgoe-esque’. Food? Er, sorry missed that too. Dessert? Ditto. Coffee? Yep, you guessed it. Mind you, I did get back in time to see a lot of ‘dad dancing’ – hmm, not too sure old Mark Runacus would win Strictly…
Finally, I can’t sign off without mentioning the grand prix winners, Indicia. Very impressive they were too. And, I have to say, I never realised you could actually get dinner jackets all the way down in Bristol.
Roll on next year…
