Our new Expenses Helpline is completely jammed. We’re not even scratching the surface of the demand. Had an MP on this morning hysterical about his Sky subscription. Something about ‘buxom babes’ and ‘essential research into Broken Britain’. Another backbencher demanding to know what to do about his hunting fees — ‘Are they saying I can’t claim them back now? Ridiculous! It’s only £115 a month for a full subscription including field money.’ I said I thought it probably best if he didn’t, just until the fuss dies down. Then someone who wouldn’t give his name but, weirdly, sounded exactly like Wonky Tom. Said he’d recently claimed back the cost of paying a mole for leaked information about MPs’ expenses. I said he really ought to pay out of his own pocket next time. Am tired of all this talk of money and pornography. It’s perfectly horrid. And not at all what I came into politics for. Thank goodness we’ve got Mr Pickles’s party tonight. That ought to cheer us all up and be a bit of good, clean fun!
Eyes still stinging from the CS gas. Tried to ring in sick but Nigel said Jed said I was to get a certain part of my anatomy into the office or not to bother coming back ever again. Apparently I am a key witness. Can’t say I remember seeing much, on account of the clouds of gas. I’d spent a perfectly ghastly evening arguing with some journalist about how ‘we’re all the same’ — I pointed out this was not true, as I bet not a single Labour MP has claimed for a hunting subscription, which wiped the smile off his face and got him scribbling things on his hand.