'Oh fancy that – I'm eye level with your zipper...'

Surely a Minister such as Alan Duncan would have a key to his own office? The poor lamb was left waiting in the hallway for a member of staff to let him in the other day. I like Alan; he has always been polite and kind whenever we have crossed paths. So I say with affection Alan, dear, do carry a key.

We had problems with office equipment this week. To say the chap sent to fix it was a hunk is an understatement. I need to break things more often! I wish I could say I didn't gawk as he bent over the desk to play with plugs but that would make me a big fat liar and my dear old gran told me to never lie about perving over men. After all they make no secret of when they do it to us so why spare their blushes? Equality for all!

'What's that, you need help with the packaging? Well of course. Just let me hike my skirt up a bit before I kneel down. Oh fancy that – I'm eye level with your zipper...'

And that's when the boss came back, grumbling about the low standard of debate in the chamber. Not a word was said about him finding me in a questionable position in the middle of the office but then that's the beauty of working for an old school MP.

Toodles! x

Brian Binley and the Philosopher's Stone of Raw Sex Appeal

I can confirm that SexyMP.co.uk has lost its sparkle. This isn't down to the adverts or the men popping up on the women section, no. The boss has become obsessed by it. He's not happy with his ranking and has taken to emailing me and the others with the instruction to 'play it for five minutes and vote against those who are higher than me!!' We received this message every few hours all Thursday and Friday last week. Like all things in life, the website was more fun when we shouldn't have been playing it in the office. A bit like watching pornography when in a serious relationship...

It has been a topic of discussion in a lot of MP's offices, SexyMP that is, not porn. I read Brian Binley's remarks in a local newspaper. I do think from now on his staffers should answer all calls with "Good morning, you're through to the office of Brian 'check out his raw musky powers of seduction' Binley. How may he sex you up?" It would go down a treat with the older ladies in the constituency, they would love it.

Bad Granny! No Cash in the Attic for you!

Hopefully not to the extent that my dear old granny did. She once knocked down three shoppers on a busy high street with her mobility scooter all because she wanted to pinch a man's arse. It's all right when you're elderly you can get away with anything! I have to pretend to be reaching round to open a door, swatting a fly or swinging my handbag when I want touch a man's bum. Actually that's not 100% true, I did once pinch Liam Fox's rear during a photo call at an event but then if you can't do it to Dr Foxy, who can you do it to?

Good night.

A Day of Near Misses

Today was a day of near misses. I nearly got knocked down by a black cab outside Charing Cross station just before lunch and then I was nearly knocked down by Nicholas Soames outside a committee room. Bulldozer in human form that man.

Heels are not ideal when running about London and even less so on the wet cobblestones that make up the front of the Palace. I could wear trainers when I'm darting about but then how will the old boys know when to look about for a perve if they can't hear the tip tap of a lady's shoes? As my dear old granny used to say "underwear comes and goes but you must never be without heels and a pearl necklace, Felicity dear." Both this statement and the accompanying wink confused my eleven year old self but by heck the old bird was right!

I managed to spend a precious few hours in the office today. The only highlight was when someone tried to unlock the door (which wasn't locked) without knocking. The posties tend to knock but every now and then some rude so and so just walks in. I leapt for the door in a hope of catching the git only to be greeted by a confused and swaying MP.

"Who are you?"

"Felicity. Who are you?"

"Is this my office?"

"Almost 100% sure it isn't. Unless this is you." I pointed to the name on the door.

"S'not me. Cocking hell I must be on the wrong floor..." And with that he stumbled away. 

I didn't recognise him right away but I can confirm that he wasn't a member of either of the two major parties. Nice to know it's not just my boss who suffers from 'Long-Lunchitis.'

Toodles