Monday
Major pasta panic! Dispatched to Oxfordshire to help Sam find lasagne sheets for Dave’s Thinkers and Opinionators Supper this weekend which is in real danger of being cancelled for the first time in its history — due to food shortages! Isn’t this just the most damning indictment of Brown’s Britain?
Emailed Jed a memo: ‘Recommend we put out press release blaming Gordon. Queuing for pasta like Soviet Russia. Outraged quotes from Jamie Oliver, Nigella et al. Suggested headline: The Penne Drops for Gordon.’
Thought that was pretty brilliant of me actually. He hasn’t replied yet, unless you count a one-line text saying ‘get back in your box’, which I don’t think he can have meant to send to me. More likely meant for Mr Letwin who keeps breaking out of the Tranquillity Room to hunt for more Policy Commission reports to read. It’s been tragic watching him go cold turkey now that they’re all in the recycling bin. I mean, in the policy mix!
Whoops!!
Tuesday
It’s official: Polls so good they’re bad. Celebration Breeds Relegation. Nigel explained it to me. In fact, it’s so bad this time they’ve decided not even Mr Maude wandering around looking miserable is going to help.
So they got a top US ‘psephologist’ (or was he a psychologist?) called Roger Reeper from Harvard to come and show everyone a big chart which proved there was less chance of us winning in 2010 than life being found on Pluto. (Is that so unlikely? Must read up about planets, space etc.)
Wonky Tom said: ‘Yeah, but Dave can do anything!’ Mr Reeper pulled out another chart showing degrees of Tory-hating in the north going from bright red to deep purple. But everyone shouted: ‘Nonsense! Dave is going to lead us to an historic landslide victory no matter what happens!’ Then deafening shouts of ‘Hooray!’ and ‘We Love Dave!’
Heard Roger on his way out telling Jed: ‘It’s hopeless. They’re beyond help. These people are so deluded they think your leader can walk on water.’
Durr! Of course he can walk on water! I organised the pictures of Dave waterskiing in Malibu-cut Vilebrequins myself! Silly man. Still, we showed him!
Wednesday
On Boris duties for rest of week. Bev from Labour rang to say she was desperate to jump ship now Ken almost certain to lose. She wants to know whether we can guarantee her a safe seat ‘but not too rural, cos I don’t do mud, like’. I’m going to meet her tonight just to give her the benefit of the doubt. I haven’t seen her in a while and you never know, she might have changed.
Sadly, my idea to blame Gordon for pasta shortages now officially rejected. Incredibly, it’s nothing to do with him but everything to do with Italian farmers selling wheat for biofuels instead of spaghetti! This is an outrage. Surely we as the Natural Party of Pasta must campaign against these dreadful so-called biofuels which seem to be taking over. Told Jed but he just said ‘I refer you to my earlier text’. V odd.
Thursday
It was no go with Bev, I’m afraid. She’s still about two stone overweight with red spiky hair. I had to be honest with her. There really isn’t a safe Tory seat in the country, with mud or without, that is going to consider a Labour defector unless she’s had a makeover at Daniel Galvin. We are the New Look Tories, after all.
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