"Better the Devil You Know"

Diary of a Westminster Bag-carrier: giving pervs what they want since 2011

Getting post from the constituency office is always fun as it's likely to be from someone who prefers to drop their 'important' correspondences off on a doorstep in the middle of the night rather than email, fax or phone. What was sent up to the Westminster office on Thursday was hilarious as well as sinister. The constituent had made a very large print out of the boss's face and then cut out the eyes. There appeared to be an accidental tear across the mouth and written in purple ink on the back were the lyrics to Kylie Minogue's 'I should be so Lucky'

It was a whole new level of political interest.

I didn't let the boss see it. I have enough trouble getting him into the constituency at the best of times. Last thing I need is him declaring it unsafe. Once he called an event with CWO "exceptionally dangerous to my manhood". Very prone to drama is my boss.

I read the very excellent Closing Prices email from PoliticsHome Thursday evening and spotted the Chancellor's comments on Scotland. Since he was unexpectedly at Dr Fox's New Year's gathering on Wednesday night, I wonder if Osborne got Fox's thoughts on what he was going to say. 

Toodles x

Mugs, Jugs and Slugs

While I am off on holls hopefully enjoying some whirlwind romance or at the very least getting my jollies, I hope all of Westminster enjoys the visit from Barack Obama.

I imagine that Obama will be half way through his speech and all of a sudden Gordon Brown recreates the scene from The Graduate. I will be very annoyed if I miss that.

Dear readers do you ever wish to hint to your work colleagues that you may be an anonymous blogger, wind up The Daily Mail AND line my pockets at the same time? Well you're in bally luck!

A girl's gotta pay for her shoes somehow...

I am Felicity Parkes by FelicityParkes

And now all that remains to be asked is:

Will the bars on the Estate notice a drop in their profits while I'm away? Will I come back to find the boss accidentally hanged himself as he mucked around with the office blinds? Will George ever send me a thank you email? Should I do as heavily suggested to me and remove the website I set up documenting Jacob Rees-Moggs double breasted suits? Will the Speaker be annoyed when he finds out what I left in the green petition bag? And finally... how much will a glass of wine cost on the flight?

Toodles!

Comedy Not Controversy

Imagine my surprise Sunday morning when I opened up a link to a Daily Mail article about me! I will admit to giving a sigh of frustration as this blog was compared to another which apparently revealed a real life affair between an intern and an MP. I've not read the blog myself but I was aware of it. The article then quotes a few posts from here and my blogger profile. All in all a sense of humour fail.

The reason for this blog has always been to entertain and make with the funny. I am not here to act as an undercover journalist and I would have hoped that the chaps at The Daily Mail and MPs would have spotted that. If there are individuals out there who don't get it, I would suggest they read my twitter profile.

Staffer for a Member of Parliament. Tory flirt with lushy tendencies. Welcome to my world...

On another note I am finally getting a holiday. I shall be flying out on Tuesday and not returning until the following week. Nothing but sand, sea and men in tight shorts, woof! I will of course still be contactable and more than happy to receive emails or tweets from my dear readers.

And happy birthday to George Osborne today and The Moggster tomorrow.

I hope your Whitsun recess will be as pleasant as I hope the hell mine will be.

Toodles for now xx

Broken Printers and Crazy Pills

 

I am so angry I could quite literally punch the face off a squirrel. Is anyone else locked into what feels like an eternal battle with their printer? 

It says it has ran out of ink so I replace the cartridge. Then it needs to clean itself then initialise follow by a crash, a jam and ANOTHER clean! I’ve tried rebooting it and opening all the drawers. I’ve even taken to threatening it with fire and cold tea much to the bosses worried looks.  He can p*ss off since he’s STILL taking to his Lady Thatcher photograph! Sometimes it just feels like we’re all taking the same crazy pills. I could just climb on the roof and scream.

I’ve got a huge pile of work that needs scanning in front of me as I type this and it will not be getting done this evening. Nothing winds me up more than having to stay later than 7pm because of defunct technology. I've written to Sir Ian Kennedy at IPSA to request a second scanner or printer in the office but surprise surprise, not even a acknowledgement.

I’ve only left the office once today. When I wasn’t working or being insulted down the phone by bat sh*t insane newly elected Cllrs, I sat under my desk and had lunch whilst watching business in the house. I do wish we had a debate between Ed Balls and George Osborne every week, they're just so bitchy to each other. 

I'm giving up on the printer. I've got better things to do like trying to set up a meeting with a Minister despite the best efforts of his department mandarins. If they want to steal every moment of his day so there's nothing left for anyone else then fine. I'll suggest to the boss that he visit the Minister at home in the dead of night if I have to!

Okay... It is definitely home time.

Gymnastics, Cuts and Blinky

“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.

Bitch Fight with the Police

The boss was somewhat fragile today. As I understand it he managed to get himself slipped for Wednesday evening and then disappeared into the evening air with his wife. I don’t know where they went but his phone was turned off and this morning he’s sporting a love bite and a hangover. The old dog!

Rachel the intern was stopped by security today. Normally she is able to get quite close to the office as long as she sticks to the ‘public area’. This time though she was stopped by a petite female officer who was having none of it. This meant I had to get up and get her which put me in a bad mood. Subsequently the argument I then had with the officer may have been caught in the background of a news report. Can’t tell for sure though. This is why I prefer male officers, the older ones especially as they don’t care anymore. They just want a quiet life and a smile from ‘a pretty lass’ which I’m always more than happy to help with.

I’m being urged to go to the Sports tonight but it's karaoke night and it never end well. It’s a tiny pokey little bar anyway but it’s rammed with bodies on a Thursday night and you can’t hear yourself think over the cat wails that is the singing. I think I shall pass...or will I?

Funniest thing I’ve seen today was a No2AV parody tweeted out by Mr Cole. It’s been added to my little wall of ‘images that make me laugh and/or inspire me’.

It joins Maggie on the doorstop, Brown being told about Bigotgate, Boulton vs. Campbell and the past mentioned George and his hoe plus a wealth of others!

Toodles. 

Never Underestimate a Man in His Pants

We’ve lost another intern! At this rate my office is going to get a reputation for being cursed.

I feel quite bad actually as the last time I saw him I called him Sicky Ricky and he didn’t look all that impressed. I’m not fussed if I hurt his feeling, more that it makes me look like I couldn’t remember his name which I can. It’s....well it was obviously such a boring name it didn’t stick in the old grey matter. I am assured that we will soon have someone else from the constituency and I can go through the whole spiel once more about how we run this office.
My main gripe has been a lack of common sense from the youngsters: letters posted with no attachments, not saving spread sheets and then there is of course the little matter of throwing old tea out of the office window. If the splashed MP is reading this then please accept my sincere apologies. The intern in question knew fear, I promise you.

Somehow the boss injured himself since I last saw him. He won’t tell me if his wife, a constituent or a really good bottle of scotch that was to blame. I will just have to sooth my nosiness by hiding the crutch he’s using. He’s doing a jolly good impression of Tiny Tim right now, pathetic little cough and everything.

It was good to have the House sitting today. Nothing quite like seeing Chris Bryant stumping the Speaker by quoting Erskine May. As my boss says “Never underestimate a man in his pants!” Profound.

Of course the best part was David Winnick saying the UK should stop selling arms to "murdering bastards who terrorize their own people”. David Miliband’s face looked just like his brother’s for a moment.

Am I keen to spend a weekend in Wales with the boss? No. Is it still going to happen regardless? Seems so. Will I be using free white wine to make the weekend pass quicker? Absolutely.

Word has it that the Chancellor is loving it up with backbenchers tonight over at No.11. I wonder if they have twiglets? Mmm savory maneuvers.

Toodles.

Clowns, cats and Snakes

The Association of Circus Proprietors of Great Britain Parliamentary Reception... 

I read these word with tears in my eyes. I am praying for the place to be filled with clowns! Dear readers imagine the scenario if you will: someone working here has a fear of clowns and they are secure in the knowledge that they are unlikely to see the object of that fear in the work place and then BAM they turn a corner and there’s half a dozen clowns queuing up with visitor pass around their necks. I'll be keeping an ear out for the screams.

Getting a cat as a pet is quite pedestrian especially if the purpose of the pet is to kill other animals. Now a python would have shown character and creativity, not to mention supplying endless nob related gags. Dave might not be able to pull off a snake though, so to speak. It just wouldn't go with the sunbed tan. 

Perhaps it could live at No.11? Osborne would be far better suited for the whole dark lord persona. Just ask the unions.

The boss has banned us from saying ‘Larry the Cat’ in the office. Yesterday it was ‘Big Society’ and one can only imagine what tomorrow's banned phrase will be. I'll go with ‘Andrew Cooper’, our new Director of Strategy at No.10 and ex-SDP. Just shoot me!

Roulette, Balls and the Giant Orange Face of the Hoff

I do believe I have spent most of today playing ‘Phone line Roulette’. Surely you have all played the game? It’s where you call the House of Commons operators, ask for a certain department and get something completely random. The kind soul of an operator can hear the frustration and fatigue in your voice and thinks it will brighten your day to get the Member’s Centre rather than the Events team or the Stranger’s Dining room rather than Facilities. Oh the surprise of it all! 

I can't say I'm sorry I missed the Hoff on the Estate today. Now if it had been Steven Seagal well let me tell you.....I probably wouldn’t have cared for that either. 

The only time I raised my head from where I was slowly banging it against my desk was to either watch Daily Politics or Treasury Questions. I’ve been with my Member of Parliament long enough now to distinguish his ‘yeah yeah yeah’ from everyone else’s in the chamber. Worryingly it’s a habit I seem to be picking up myself whenever I agree with something someone has said. I’m told I do it a great deal when I’ve had a few drinks so I am clearly much more agreeable after a few shots.

The boss came back to the office after TQs and said Balls had been dreadful. Seems Balls and his PPS were the only ones trying to make any noise when Osborne was on his feet, the Labour backbenches were ‘detached’. Balls really will be the Son of Brown if he turns into a Billy-no-mates.

My clock says 18:20 - that’s bar o’clock in my book. 

Toodles!