I walked into Portcullis House Tuesday morning without a coat after leaving it in the office on Thursday. I know many people are sniggering that it will be raining for the royal wedding but I wanted the sun shine to stay put. What’s the point in getting a tan if you can’t then put your skin on display for the world to see? Thankfully the sun broke through and succeeded in blinding me as I typed by mid-afternoon.
The boss has been on fine form all day. I walked in just before Big Ben chimed 9am to find him at his desk, feet up as he chuckled into his papers. I fear it may have been a sugar overdose from the weekend. There was a moment today when I stared at him in sheer absolute panic as he waved me off and trotted down to the Member’s lobby with chocolate stuck to his trousers. Frankly I give up. If he can’t even eat a chocolate egg, stolen from his children, without making such a mess then I don’t think there’s much hope for him.
I watched John Hemming MP try to raise the subject of Super Injunctions in the chamber today. Bercow slapped him down like a under paid pimp, it was a depressing sight. Whatever happened to Parliamentary privilege?
There have been whispers about certain individuals, true paternity and things people may or may not have done eight years ago before meeting their current partner. I will say no more as I don't know if it's true. However I will be keeping my eye out.
|No reason fo posting this, I just wanted to share.|