#12

[therealpm]

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?

Comments

[c4mpb3llcl4r3t.livejournal.com]

I try my utmost not to smash a pint glass in that fucking shit-eating Moominpapa face on live television and this is the thanks I get?

Have you tried my chalk 'n' cheese sandwiches, Peter? They're absolutely cracking.

And I was practically bloody statesmanlike this evening, given the fact that I was obliged to spend most of it staring down the caterwauling facial hatch of that claymation Julie Andrews: Spelman. Christ, like a cat's anus in a wind tunnel...

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

Good evening to you too, Alastair.

[c4mpb3llcl4r3t.livejournal.com]

Likewise, naturally.

Nice job desaturating Bercow's wardrobe, by the way. Though I can't shake the feeling that you've somehow interfered with natural law... again.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

Thank you. He seems less than sanguine about the prospect, but I'm sure he'll come around eventually. Moi?

Noticed you flirting with Hughes at the end there. Obviously I admire your dedication to the Labour cause, but suspect your efforts were wasted.

[c4mpb3llcl4r3t.livejournal.com]

Yes... either that, or you'll shortly be reacquainting yourself with those of the canine persuasion? Nothing coarse implied, guv. Chortle.

Ah, Simon's a good lad really. Doesn't flinch at a hand on his thigh and a word in his ear about a "good solid punchfuck" if he ever mentions the phrase "dodgy dossier" again - he'll go far, bless him.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

...who told you?

[c4mpb3llcl4r3t.livejournal.com]

Come now, a cuddly has-been never reveals his sources.

Besides, I've never seen a beagle stare that longingly at Prada loafers. Or inexpertly apply spectacles, for that matter.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

...unless he has a suitably lucrative book deal or speaking engagement.

I did NOT

I'm off to sleep. You can kip on the sofa bed or toddle off back home.

[c4mpb3llcl4r3t.livejournal.com]

By Jove, I think he's got it.

And much obliged, but there's a cab outside with my name on it. Wouldn't want you to toss and turn imagining I'd press my advantage, would I?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

Which advantage would that be, exactly? Going to knock me out with your halitosis? Trap me under that flabby gut of yours? Don't overreach yourself.

[c4mpb3llcl4r3t.livejournal.com]

A combination of the two, probably combined with the immobilising serum secreted by my nipple-pincers.

Fuck off and go to sleep before I make some predictable comment involving the fragments "lady", "doth" and "protest too much".

Later masturbator.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

To which the only adequate response, I believe, is 'in your dreams'. Now sod off and don't come back until you're only moderately intolerable.