I may have had a smidgen too much influence on Rachel the Intern. Apparently she turned twenty last week and has since become determined to leave her teens behind her with the same gritty determination one has when trying to dump a blind date before the food is ordered.
Anyway Rachel has become a Mini Me and I am actually quite flattered. Some people hope to impart wisdom, love and peace to those around them, I am happy for my legacy to be sarcasm, right-wing cynicism and a pursuit of mindless gratification. We've got to teach these kids something after thirteen years of Labour education! I have a friend who has been 'seeing' a chap who refuses to watch films with subtitles because of 'all the sentence things covering the screen and getting in the way.' Yes, his entire secondary education was under Labour and yes, she is a cradle snatcher.
To cut a long story short - at Rachel's request we went to a few of the pubs in Westminster and enjoyed a few shandys. This resulted in us being so legless that I had to pay for a cab back to Rachel's sister's flat and then on to my own. I will be telling her to cough up the money for that when I see her next.
I received a rather angry phone call from Rachel's sister as I was falling through my front door. Rather than drinking a glass of water and passing out on the sofa, Rachel had decided to light a cigarette (which she had taken from me) and then opened her sister's bottle of sambuca. There was mention of sick and stomach pumping but I haven't had it confirmed by Rachel yet. She did however send me a text this afternoon. 'Soz for my sis calling you a ****'. I've had worse.
I have a vague memory of getting onto a rickshaw last night and declaring myself Boudica: Bitch Queen of London Town. What worries me is that I don't think there are any rickshaws in Westminster. Where the hell did we go? Unless that was when Rachel joked about trying to find where Zac Goldsmith lived and I promptly hailed a cab...
Who else went to the No to AV event this morning in Victoria Gardens for parliamentary staffers and their MPs? I got as far as the gate and then turned around again. I am NotoAV and proud but there is no way I was going to wear a bright green t-shirt in public so I stayed off to one side and had a smoke.
I did spot one or two MPs returning to the Westminster Palace with their green shirts tucked under their arms. I don't know if these were gifts from the campaign team or 'souvenirs'.
Well done those who did their part for the compaign at 9am on a Monday morning. With my cigarette clasped between my lips, I saluted you. And quite possible the German tourists who just happened to be walking past me at the same time. It would have turned messy if they had taken offence, I can tell you!
Also well done to Labour today from ignoring their own links and connections to the UKuncut bunch and instead trying to make the story about Boris Johnson. Of course some more than other's were having trouble with BoJo's words of wisdom.
Did you know, dear readers that there are those who are actively trying to corner and identify me? If it wasn't so funny I would probably find the whole situation a little bit sexy!
The people in question are mostly colleagues, staffers who just hate being out of the loop. I am quite sure some of them are reading this right now. My friends: don't you have better things to do than try to work out if you have a spy in your midst? There's talk of getting together and working through the clues. I'm going to be there, I've offered to take notes. Inspector Clouseau eat your heart out!
Remember boys and girls: I get my information and inspiration from many things. If you have a titbit that you think I might be interested in then tell me. You can rely on me to keep all identities safe, my lips will be sealed. And yes, before anyone says anything, that does make a change from the norm.
In a time of conflict, unrest and bad sporting results, Felicity Parkes attempts to enjoy a day in the park. Surrounded by protesters, socialists and the general unwashed, will she make it to end without giving herself away or will she take one too many nips of the old hip flask?
I arrived at Hyde Park just after 1pm and was immediately overwhelmed with a sneer. My union disliking boss would have keeled over from the sheer volume of trade union banners. Lots of green, red and purple but not much blue. Funny that.
I spotted son of Lord Hunt of Chesterton, Tristram Hunt MP and Natascha Engel MP near the archway
David Anderson MP was sat near the stage and shouting down his phone and I spotted Hilary Benn MP trying to get in backstage.
The only hacks I recognised were Gary Gibbon and Sir Michael White. Gibbon wandered around bored for a few hours, never looking particularly inspired. I have a sneaking suspicion that White recognised me from when our paths have crossed outside Moncriefs from time to time. I would guess that his red beret was as close as he could get to showing solidarity with his comrades!
The rally seemed to be made up of 'right-on' activists, indoctrinated students and middle-class families who hadn't had a day out since the Stop the War march. There was one couple drinking champagne! This I know as fact because they nearly hit me with when they popped the cork.
Despite all the Tory and bank bashing, it was nice to see lots of people at the rally riding Boris bikes. In their own little way Barclays was represented.
A number of people including David Prentis and Ed Miliband mentioned that half a million people were at the rally. I'm sure I've seen more people at a Take That concert back when they were at their peak.
Ed Miliband's speech was dreadful and as I tweeted today as well, there were quite a few who were not happy to have him there. I nearly lost the hearing in one ear when an old lady screamed "You would've done the same!" This was said by a few others as well and it just so happens I was able to recorded some of it.
I won't go into the drivel that came out of this man's mouth because others have done a far better job than I could have. Here's Patrick Hennessy's comments.
The big screens almost couldn't take it!
For all the gumpf about 'women's equality' and the 'appreciation of the Sisterhood' we still had three near naked dancers on the stage for six minutes. They danced and jiggled while Medhi Hasan stood just off side grimacing. He clenched his jaw and barred his teeth as he realised that for all the sh*t said about respecting women, he was going to have to take to the stage like a beauty pageant host.
The one part that has stuck in my mind from anything Medhi Hasan said all day was this line: "The only difference between Thatcher and Cameron is the gender." IF ONLY I nearly shouted.
Regardless of all the anti-capitalist nonsense that was spouted today, when it came down to it people were still willing to hand their money over to the few smart businesses in the park. I salute those burger vans, coffee sellers and knock-off t-shirt traders who sold crap to the protesters. And I do mean crap. The cheese burger I bought would have been thrown at Tony Robinson had I not been so bloody hungry.
All in all there was nothing there for anyone outside of a union or not employed by the public sector. It all felt very 'me me me' despite their attempts to make it 'us us us'. There were your usual lines about the police keeping their "sleazy hands of our kids" and the ill thought out encouragements to occupy building and strike. As it has been rightly pointed out today, the Countryside Alliance had greater numbers at their march. Does that make them more or less mainstream Mr Miliband?
I'll leave you with these two photos that I took at the rally. If I every attend another of these I am going to try sniffing glue before hand. It might help put me in the mindset of trade unionist.
Tesco has started spamming the boss with emails about the iPad 2. Clever bastards but they're forgetting one little thing: most MPs can't even work their Blackberrys and would probably end up using an iPad as a clipboard.
Speaking of emails, has anyone else been getting emails from Tony Blair? The boss has had a few now and it looks like all MPs have been cc'ed in. It's the whole 'WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE AND IT'S DOWN TO THE GAYS' bullsh*t. I don't think it's our Tony Blair but it is certainly someone else with a screw loose.
Rachel the intern asked today why MPs stand up after someone speaks in the chamber. She thought it was to show support for what had been said. I resisted the urge to pat her head and just settled for "shush, less talky talky and more posty posty." She's swearing a lot more these days and has starting asking me what it's like to smoke. The more this place corrupts her the more I'm warming to her.
I would have left it there but then I had the displeasure of seeing Ed Balls' Budget Response on the television before BBC Question Time. Whose bloody idea was it to film it in a Sure Start centre? Osborne does his in a plush and stately room. Balls does his in what looks like a classroom and ends up looking like a predatory, BUG eyed warning to children.
I didn't see them but the boss tells me that there were MPs queuing up to get in the chamber before 10am. "Bunch of sycophantic arse-kissers" as he like to call them.
He ambled his way over to the chamber at 11:20am. I received a text shortly after: No seat. Standing like a tit. I was tempted to text back and ask what kind of freaky tits had he been looking a recently but couldn't be bothered.
Any plans that I might have had for this evening went via the u-bend at around 7pm. The TUC were having a NHS or some such reception and the boss wanted me in there. Man alive was I bored! When it became clear that despite my shy smile and nervous air, I was in fact a baby eating Tory it went somewhat down hill.
I am never very good at anything undercover. I have a tendency to say things like "Yes but you're a socialist and therefore have no concept of ownership or responsibility." They don't like that.
Everyone remembers that scene from Fawlty Towers when he attacks the car with the tree, yes? If not then you're either far too young and you should be revising for an exam or you've been living under a rock...in Mongolia.
Anyway, those that know what I mean when I say that I went 'totally Basil Fawlty' on a photocopier this afternoon. The buggering thing chose to break just after 6:30pm when I needed it most. If any dear readers witnessed a woman beating a machine with what looked like a stack of fuel duty lobby letters, than that was me.
I'm writing this on the train home, squeezed into my seat by a giant man in headphones. He is wearing a Baywatch t-shirt. I feel very uncomfortable.
I am considering breaking my own rule of 'only heels at work'. When you're walking down the principle floor corridor at 10pm shoeless then it's time to admit there's a problem. Thankfully there were very few people about to see me.
I looked a state. A small state which is no bad thing but still a state.
“Never violate the bosses diary or I will break your fingers!”
Now some will say this is not the way to speak to a work colleague but I would argue that the intern is not a colleague but rather a part time pet in the office. A pet which must find its own food and should it anger a bigger animal i.e. a policeman or MP, fend for its self. Sadly, should the pet make a constant mess and endless noise, it can't be put down. I’ve had that confirmed by IPSA by the way: we’re not allowed to put down interns.
As I tweeted earlier, I realised half way through the day that I had mismatched stockings on. Only with a trained eye or a hand on each calf would someone be able to tell the difference but that’s not the point. I knew there was a difference and they had to be changed. This resulted in me attempting to change in the office. When it became clear that my bare leg was a little too much for the chaps I made my way to the ladies.
Sadly I attempted this journey with one shoe undone and only one clasp holding an under garment in place. Suddenly losing your footing and shoe then subsequently hitting the deck is not a manoeuvre one can pull off at the best of times. Doing it while trying to keep yourself covered in front of a large group of mostly elderly visitors is a humiliation I wouldn’t wish on even (Sally Bercow) the most irritating Labour activist! This whole incident might explain the strange looks I was getting from David Guake at one point today. Were you there David? Answers on a post card.
I had considered watching Treasury Qs from the gallery this afternoon just so I could get out of the office. Normally when the feeling of imprisonment starts to set in, I go to the bar but it’s still a week till pay day and I don’t have the coinage. Instead I stayed at my desk and shouted obscenities with the boss whenever Balls spoke.
We had a constituent write to tell us that the Coalition Government was 'slashing this country's throat' over cuts. How we marveled at the pun! Finally, after a great deal of sniggering, we included the following in our response:
Rather than slitting this country’s throat, I believe the Government is performing life-saving emergency surgery to save Great Britain from flatlining on the economic operating table. With surgeon-like precision the Chancellor will be seeking to ensure that this operation is as painless as possible.
I’m not sure what I’m looking forward to more on Wednesday: the Budget or the protests outside. I’m to stay and ‘assist’ the boss until late tomorrow evening so if there are any protesters looking to throw bottles and stones at me again like last time then they should be warned. I probably won’t be sober.
Understandably there were a lot of hacks around today. Everyone seemed to be flitting around with a nervous air. I guess sending our brave boys and girls into combat will do that to a Parliament.
Of course the world doesn’t stop when fighting starts. Constituents keep calling and lobbyists keep sending boring and generic emails.
I am getting increasingly p*ssed off with the moths in every office and hallway. Does anyone else have an issue with flying bugs trying to get in your mouth?
"I never hugged him, I bombed him."
My boss has decided he wants to join the Parliamentary ‘Back to Netball’ Group. “If it’s good enough for Col. Bob then it’s good enough for me!” Why doesn’t it surprise me that that Bob Stewart has signed up as well.
I am worried about the boss. I came back from lunch and found him talking to a framed portrait of Baroness Thatcher about Libya. I know he likes to air his thoughts when he’s troubled but I think he’s spending too much time chatting to the Iron Lady. Christ I hope he doesn’t start hearing the portrait talk back. He did leave the office for the chamber muttering something about “the stench of appeasement.” Oh dear. I was going to take him up on his offer of a few in the Strangers this evening but I'm not too sure now he's gone all fruitloop.
