I saw Ed Balls a few times around the estate after PMQs, and each time that man had a grin the size of a police officer's subsidised Terrace cafeteria fry up. In other words – f*cking huge! Tom Baldwin, the other testicle in Ed Miliband's meat and two veg, looked decidedly calm and relaxed in PCH. However I don't think he should lurk about in that large coat of his. I'm not going to say he looked like a dealer as that would imply that I know what one looks like. And I don't. You've got nothing on me copper!
Do you know what it's like to have your boss point at your crotch and say “I didn't think you were looking forward to PMQs that much?”
I do. “I spilt orange juice down my lap and that's another one to go in the folder marked 'Sexual Harassment.'
The corridor dwellers were out in force today. The taxpayer funds your office, please and politely use it rather than walking up and down the principle floor again and again on your mobile phone. I'm aiming this at Tristram Hunt, Zac Goldsmith and on occasion the Adam Afriyie, to name a few.
Having seen two Tory rebels slinking around the estate together Wednesday morning, I have decided to name them affectionately Hollo de Bone-Bone. Beware all those who support the EU and efficient use of debating time!
The office is now officially dry. Not intentionally I might add, not like those who take a month off to prove to their loved ones that they don't have a problem. No, we just drank our way through the Christmas drink and the bottles left over from the boss's NYE party. Rest assured that the bottles weren't left over because he didn't want to drink them, more to do with his wife trying to see off potential liver failure. When the government suggested two dry days a week, my employer's only response was “I'd like to see them bloody try! From my cold, dead HANDS!”
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