Insert Your Joke About A Wet Pussy Here

For a while now I have been meaning to write something about the Eurozone crisis but every time I start, I find myself getting bored very quickly. I can only put this down to a lack of financial experience, understanding of a dependant, socialist mind and the fact that Osborne is currently in my bad books.

But what I do know is this – I would never use my credit card to pay for my friends drinks on a night out. This is because I know the lazy bastards would never pay me back and most likely crash at my flat after, empty my fridge and traumatise my flatmate's cat by mistaking my wardrobe for a toilet again. Thus leaving me even further out of pocket. 

So whilst I am happy to pay for my rounds I will always put my foot down and say “no, no, no” when the sob story starts.

“I may be a caring, compassionate conservative but if you want the money to have a night out and forget that you caught the clap from a girl whose cherry you thought you were taking, then might I suggest you try writing a poignant, heartfelt song about STDs in the hope that Simon Cowell gives a shit because I don't. Now go away and so I can chat up this barman in peace!”

That's not something I can see Cameron or Osborne saying to the EU anytime soon but I think the intention should certainly be the same.

"Rebel, rebel your face is a mess"

For most of Thursday afternoon my boss and I pondered the PM's decision to act like such an arse. He could have allowed a free vote and quietly spoke to rebels as and when he needed. He could have let them blow off the steam in a vote and then kicked everything into the long grass. Either way the vote wouldn't have to be acted on soon, if at all. But instead Cameron has gone in a bit too heavy handed. It all makes me wonder what Steve Hilton has said on the whole thing.

Those MPs who will rebel are unlikely to change their minds. Some will have been very loyal up until now but for many: the EU is the line in the sand.

I left the boss biting his nails, still caught between confusion and anger. Confusion around the PM's motives and angry at Eustice's amendment email. There was no need to ask my boss how he will vote.

Goodnight. x

Hello, is it me you're looking for...

The office phone rang before I had a chance to log in to my pc on Tuesday morning. I only answered it because I could see from the display that it wasn't from the constituency. Calling me before I've had my coffee and then staying silent on the line is a guaranteed way of pissing me off. I knew there was someone there as I could hear background noise and after saying "Hello" twice I put the phone down.
It happened eleven more times throughout the morning and I became more and more aggressive with each one. By lunch time I had reached "Look, if this doesn't stop I'll give your number to police so they can find you and kick your family pet. I'm sure you've got better things to do and if you haven't, might I suggest you use this time to look for a job. Goodbye!"

That seemed to work for a good few hours, until another call came through on the same number mid afternoon. However this time there was someone there, someone from the CSA. I didn't bother asking if they had trouble with their phone lines, I just hope my pet threat hadn't been recorded. 

There's a wiff in the air and it is definitely the smell of euroscepticism. It's invigorating! There's shenanigans afoot on the backbenches and if Dave isn't careful he's going to find himself surrounded.

Nearly time for PMQs again. I wonder if Ed can build on his success from last week?

The Eds, Bob and Wee Dougie

I've been informed that hissing "Ed Balls for Labour Leader" behind Ed Miliband's back on the Portcullis House escalators is bad form. I thought I was being down right polite.

I watched the PM's statement on Libya and Japan this afternoon. I must say I'm getting a little worried about Dave. Last week he was saying that the EU was good for the country, then today that Baroness Ashton was doing a good job. Where is this going? "The EU is grand, Ashton is superb, Balls is an economic marvel and Bob Crow is a very tender lover."

I subtly hinted to Rachel about the sniffing thing. It involved me offering her a tissue after every third sniff. If that doesn't work then I'm just going to scream "For the love of all things holy please stop with the constant crusty sniff sniff, you absolute DRIP of a girl!"

Lunch was a disappointment. Honey glazed chicken breast on a pita bread with a salad garnish turned out to be pita bread, a nugget of meat and a sh*t load of green crap. £4 is a lot on my level of pay. A lot.

Can someone tell wee Douglas Alexander to use his office. Everytime I walk though Portcullis House he's there with his staff and having what looks like a secret hobbit meeting. Get a f*cking room!

Toodles.