Boobies to The Left of Me, Boobies to The Right

Nothing gets a God fearing Backbencher red in the face like accidentally bumping into them in a tiny lift. With my breasts.

Monday was terrible day. This was probably down to me starting the day out by screaming down my phone at 8am, with a coffee and ciggarette whilst freezing my behind off on the Embankment. It could well have been a scene from Spooks but with an excessive use of the F word. That would never have made it past BBC censors; smoking in a public place, I think not!

A magazine simply called Equility turned up in the post with the rest of the never-ending lobby crap. Aimed at women I believe. Despite being the only female in the office, I felt no need to open or read it. The boss picked it up by the very corner and asked "why are these silly bints sending me things about hairy nipples?"
I could have pointed out that it was a self answering question but why waste my breath.

My dear old boss had another encounter with nipples again when he clinked to read Guido's Daily Star Sunday column. When I asked him what he thought he mumbled "I don't know. I'm too busy trying to stop myself from clinking on the 'Star Babes'." There was a pause before he continued louder. "Do you think it will get past the firewall?"

 And he wonders why he's not running the country.

"You'll never be Rachel Johnson, Mr Speaker!"

As I'm writing this on International Women's Day, allow me to make reference to when the sisterhood once burnt their bras.

Burnt that bra Kelly Brooke!

It didn't take long for us to get a new face in the office. Her name is Rachel and she wants to be a journalist and writer apparently. My work colleague found this very humorous.

"Shame your surname isn't Johnson otherwise you could claim her work as your own. Get it?"

This was greeted with the same weak flicker of intelligence one would find in the faces of MacDonalds staff. I don't like her very much. All she seems to do is sniff and pick her nails. I wouldn't mind if there was some sort of personality or character underneath that mousy brown hair or M&S cardi but there's nothing! I asked the boss if Rachel was by any chance grown in a field by one of the farmers in his constituency. He didn't find it funny. I think he's quite taken by her. I guess if sniffy, dull and monosyllabic nineteen year olds are your thing then knock yourself out. On the plus side she does know how to file and how to turn on a lap top which is better than our last constituency procured 'office helper'.

Having heard my fair share of grumbles about Speaker Bercow and what he calls 'being on Backbencher's side' I am not shocked at Claire Perry's outburst.

I wonder what the response would have been like if a male MP had said the exact same thing. Of course I would imagine someone like Jacob Rees-Mogg or similar would have perhaps said it in Latin. Speaking of The Moggster, I emailed him today. Why? Well...why not?

Dear Mr Rees-Mogg,

I won't presume to call you The Moggster but please know that it is a term many use with great affection.

I always enjoy your contribution to parliamentary debates and I very much hope that you be speaking in today’s debate as I believe we have very similar views on the EU.

While I am not a constituent I hope it would not be inappropriate if I were to ask if you will be speaking in the International Womens debate on Thursday 10th March? I very much hope this is the case and that you would consider going against the grain and referring to it as International Ladies Day. This does, in my opinion, sound like a much more enjoyable day as I am sure you will agree.

Yours sincerely,

Ms Felicity Parkes

I haven't have a response yet but I'm sure this is simply because I didn't contact him by carrier pigeon or by telegram.

Very sound update on a Thursday evening. I've just checked my email.-

Dear Ms Parkes,

Many thanks for your kind email.  Unfortunately, I did not get the chance to speak today but think your suggestion about Ladies Day is excellent.

With every good wish,

Yours sincerely,

Jacob Rees-Mogg