Chillax Melvin

This man is jolly well miffed and something tells me his home is a bunting free zone!

Calm Down Dear

Everyone is bleating on about Winnergate. Deary me, anyone would think we don't have a economy to straighten out or a conflict in Libya to deal with.

The Left is up in arms. Typical. "How dare he refer to a female as 'dear'! It's sexist. He would never have said anything like that to a man."

Actually he did in 2007. Here's an extract from theyworkforyou.com dated 12th December 2007.

David Cameron (Leader of the Opposition; Witney, Conservative)

February. Thank you, but why was it not in the Prime Minister's statement? The whole point is to announce things to the House of Commons! I know that the Foreign Secretary's speeches are normally corrected after they have gone out, but he might want to advise the Prime Minister rather more about how to get the content right in the first place.

On aid— [Interruption.] Calm down, dear; there are more questions to answer. On aid, can the Prime Minister—with the help of the Foreign Secretary, who is now fully engaged in this—tell us how much of the very substantial UK aid is being spent in Helmand and how much in the rest of the country? Should we not be focusing our aid efforts to a much greater extent where our soldiers are deployed and where so much is at stake?

If anyone has a clip of this then I would be most grateful.

All in all it's very overblown. I refer to men and women as dear, darling, sweetie, and slave (in the intern's case anyway) and I have yet to be called a sexist pig. But then maybe it's only allowed because I'm female. Oops, hang on. Female is still allowed right?

Anyway, back to work!

Sun, Chocolate, Bercow and Babies

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.

The Fresh Prince of Bone

The boss actually thought I was going to be in the office and working on Bank Holiday Monday. I received a call on my mobile at 3:30pm.

"I've been calling the office for the last ten minutes and no one is picking up, where are you?"

"I am currently sitting on my roof with a near empty wine bottle and an overflowing ashtray. Where in the name of Theresa May's shoe collection do you think I would be?"

"In the office: working!"

"It's a Bank Holiday!"

"Oh. Is it? That explains a few things. I'll see you tomorrow." Click.

One MP I did see about during recess was Peter Bone. Like everyone else he was somewhat dressed down. Untucked shirt, no tie or jacket and, amazingly enough, a pair of very trendy trainers! I thought for a moment I was seeing the Fresh Prince of Bel Air before me. Loving your style Peter.

One can only wonder what will happen during the next three days. Will it just tick along as normal with anti-Tory comments being made in the vain hope of being fired or will a senior Lib Dem finally grow a pair and just resign from the government they seem to disagree with so much? Stand up for your principles lads! And I say lads because they have so few women in their parliamentary party. 

Of course if you believe the Guardian or the Fabian Society then you'll know that the Lib Dems could lose the few ladies they have at the next election. Women with beards! That's the key. How could a local Lib Dem party turn down the chance to select such an individual? Cripes.

Batman and the Hangover Goblin

Well hello there!

A few times over the last five days I thought that Parliament would be recalled. I must say I did hope that it would happen. 

Today it felt like it was just me, Rachel and the security guard who doesn't like me much. That doesn't really narrow it down, not after I shouted at one of them last week. There is a general feeling that they make the rules up as they go along. Some days an intern gets past them, other days they can't. Some days you're only allowed near a commitee corridor if there's an event. The words "jumped up little fascist sh*t" may have passed my lips one afternoon last week. I was angry enough that the guard in question merely nodded and stepped back.

I got into the office very early Friday morning as I had to get on the roof and retrieve my pass. Yes, that is what I said!

Rachel and I had drinks with a few others on Wednesday night. I joked about getting a photo on the roof. It is after all settling into roof weather and I know a lot of people who have gone up there after a few glasses. These people include MPs as well as staffers. I thought if they can go up there then surely we can too. What harm would it cause? Firstly it helps not to fall out of the door and on to the ledge. My knees are black and blue! Secondly I don't recommend dancing in front of any spot lights, not unless you want the Metropolitan police thinking that f*cking Batman is paying them a visit.

As we were giggling and making our way back, one of the lads with us (silly blonde quiff and overly white teeth) grabbed at my chest. Was I more annoyed that he grabbed my security pass and threw it into the shadows or that my chest didn't warrant a grope? I guess we'll never know.

Either way I had to gingerly make my way onto the ledge Friday morning, run to the corner, grab my poor pass and scurry back without being spotted. There was a split second when I caught my reflection in an office window and thought 'I look quite sexy this high above London!' before mentally slapping myself and heading back in. I could have gone up there on Thurday but the Hangover Goblin wouldn't let me.

You've all seen the Hangover Goblin, right?

Bad Felicity!

Which dedicated bag carrier is at her desk, looking amazing and firing off emails at 9am on a hungover recess morning. You bet your arse it's me! It's important to get at least one email to the boss before 9am so he knows that I am working. Yesterday the email simply said 'You'll never believe this but there's post here for you!'

There has been a higher level of drinking than normal this week, what with the sunshine and everything. This has resulted in a serious lack of posting on my part. I think I've done the Westminster pub crawl every night this week and I believe I've seen more Sky News reporters out and about than I have MPs which when you think about it doesn't actually mean much.

So yes, I am writing this at my desk on a Thursday morning and once it's posted I intend to eat a full English in the vain hope that it might get rid of the taste of Bacardi.

Toodles!

Recess: It's Oh So Quiet!

Imagine being a five year old child and becoming lost in an old museum. Everything creaks and flutters with moths. There's nothing exciting about all that dark wooden panelling and stone floor and then you turn a wrong corner and suddenly you're staring up at something ghastly and frightful. Is it a statue about to come to life, a Baron who swears blind that he only took the peerage to please his wife or perhaps a painting that stares down at you with Victorian disgust? That is what work has been like. For a few brief moments there's some noise and movement and then it's back to the echoey silence of the Westminster Palace at recess time.

A few of you have emailed me over the last few days and I thank you for the images.

Most MPs have gone back to their constituencies but not all. No, there are a few dedicated and hard working individuals hanging out on the terrace and necking the champers. 

Diane Abbott conspiring to bring down the Bourgeois

In some offices where the MP has taken a few days off, the staff have taken it upon themselves to decorate with campaign posters. I am told that the Sergeant at Arms has removed the poster as it breaks Parliamentary rules but when the photographer asked whose office it was, he was told to take a hike.

 

I'm told this is Graham Allen Parliamentary office

I know what my dear readers are thinking. 'That's boring Flick, why are you putting up random photos like this?' Mainly because it links into the AV campaign and therefore gives me an excuse to mention that the No to AV guys have Rik Mayall on board as Alan B'stard, the man who almost single handedly sparked my interest in politics. Amongst other things...

Toodles x