therealpm: (Plotting)
I did hope that my comments at last week's dinner might have encouraged our frontbench to be slightly better at dissecting Osborne's populist shambles of a budget (endured in the midst of some very dubious company). It is therefore somewhat disappointing to note that the Tories were savaged more effectively by their own leadership than by ours, a situation likely to become only more frequent with Mr Miliband's lamentable departure.

therealpm: (smug)
*Sitting in the back of a vehicle with blacked out windows, huddled up once more in a hoodie far too broad for him, Peter looks across at Alastair and smirks.  Alastair thinks they're going for the equivalent of a jog around the park, and Peter has been careful not to indicate otherwise.  Today is going to be horrible, but watching Alastair slowly lose the will to live is going to make it utterly worth it.*
therealpm: (Damn)
*Peter sits at his desk and sulks.  He's already paced back and forth across the room 60 times (he counted), and is now waiting for the hour before he'll do so again.  It's become a bit of a ritual, something to break up the day and stretch his legs in the confined space of the cell. 

He glares at the stack of BIS work still left to do.  The stream of paper is seemingly neverending, and that's part of the problem.  There is never any sense that he has completed something- achieved anything indeed except knocked down one more briefing to a digestible size, with a thousand still to go.  He makes no decisions, alters no part of government policy, merely reads in, concatonates and writes out a one page summary in what is now perfect longhand.  He is bored out of his skull.

Peter hasn't tested the wards since Paddy was last on guard- all the guards since have been magical and rather more inclined to enquire as to what he is doing than previously.  He supposes John has warned them to be extra vigilant and the lack of even an illusion of privacy grates.  He hasn't managed to de-spell the phone either, and the knowledge that it has taken over a week to fail to do something he would normally be able to complete in under 10 minutes is yet one more frustration on top of the pile.  It is growing incresingly difficult for him to maintain his temper, to keep to the social niceties and not just snap at the next comment, change into the wolf and howl at the door.  But for now he bides his time with pacing and thinking up excessively creative means of revenge.*
therealpm: (annoyed)
My Hero
It is time that I finally leave frontline politics completely and instead devote my time to a far more worthy cause:
turning this journal into a tribute page for the greatest Lord ever to grace the upper chamber.
I am also jealous of his hair and will spend the next year trying to emulate it perfectly.

Don't turn my MPs into animals again, Peter, or this will be just the start. - John
You realise, John, that this means war?


Oct. 17th, 2011 05:43 pm
therealpm: (Thinking)
*picks up blackberry*

*scrolls through menu to check messages*


I didn't know Cameron had-



Well isn't this amusing.

*Tosses a pinch of powder into the grate and steps through to the laboratory of The Machine*

Machine, I require a complete facsimile of this.

*Holds up blackberry*

Software and data will do for now, but I need a physical version by tomorrow.


An exact copy- nothing less.
therealpm: (Default)
The boy is doing well, certainly better than is helpful given the current situation. Our long term strategy is reasonably secure, but a short term boost to keep us in the public's good books would not be unwelcome.

...and of course, a scattershot approach to divert media attention elsewhere can be very effective.
therealpm: (Plotting)
Other than the minor amusement of dispatching the unfounded criticisms of a few unwise Tories, today has been rather tedious. Distracted myself by watching the cricket. It's surprisingly amusing when one takes a more active role in determining the outcome of the match.

Ankle update: cast itches. Incessantly.

Machine Log Book )
therealpm: (Default)
Phase two of testing going ahead, despite the obstructionism of certain worry-warts.
therealpm: (Plotting)
Progress on The Machine: New OS (occult spell-set) crashed after only 6 hours. Need to reload entire rune inventory and reinstall from scratch. Crash caused minor portal open up between nether-dimensions and tea cupboard. Tea now infested with demons. All stocks undrinkable.

Coded small piece of malware in fit of pique. Victims experience all the effects of a bad case of flu, with no symptoms visible to others.

Replaced Hague's shampoo with Veet again. The Great Old Ones Ia! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn! always the best.


Jan. 31st, 2011 07:57 pm
therealpm: (Plotting)
Lord Mandelson is not available at the moment. Please leave your message after the tone.



Jan. 29th, 2011 06:09 pm
therealpm: (Plotting)
Machines can evolve.



Jan. 28th, 2011 08:00 am
therealpm: (Damn)
Coalition still in power.

Chicken blood feathers everywhere.

Damn it all.

EDIT: Biohazard crew arrived. Going to Campbell's.


Jan. 24th, 2011 08:00 pm
therealpm: (Machine)
Previous tests have demonstrated The Machine's capabilities at increasing the intensity of a pre-existing hangover, yet so far the ability to induce a hangover in a completely teetotal subject has remained untrialled due to lack of suitable victims subjects in the westminster area.

Target acquired.


Jan. 20th, 2011 05:20 pm
therealpm: (Plotting)
A gentle reminder to the Labour Shadow cabinet: we are not the Tory party. Position is determined by political merit, not inheritance, and there are no safe seats. Buck up, or get out.

In other news, Alastair's getting quite cuddly in his old age. Perhaps someone should tell him that a coalition of opposing idealogies has already been done?


Jan. 19th, 2011 10:43 pm
therealpm: (Cup)
Operation Tie Dye a qualified* definite success.

Other news: Campbell dragged himself along last night. Odd, given that no one was paying him to be there.

* We missed a couple of the least garish ones.
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