Sunday 23rd April 2017
I woke up to find the GLW in bed with me. She had a hand inside my pyjama top, twisting my chest hairs in what she thought was an erotic way. It annoyed me being woken like that. If the Filipino maid, whatever her name is, had run delicate fingers across my nipples it might have been arousing, but Caroline’s clumsiness can be painful. I’ve seen her stroke her bloody horse with much more delicacy and affection. She was desperate for a bit of rumpy-pumpy, probably a lifestyle thing, so I thought I would try to oblige her. After a few minutes of manual stimulation, rather roughly done, I was in a state to do the dirty deed. She insisted that I wear a Johnny so as not to spoil the sheets and was decent enough to put it on me, getting it the right way round at the second or third attempt. Then she mounted me and put me through an enthusiastic gallop, worrying me quite a lot as she jerked my manhood about. I was just glad when she finished. Why doesn’t she buy a bloody vibrator?
Had a bath, went down to a healthy breakfast and then watched the morning political shows. Lots of talk about the upcoming election. The Blairites are doing their best to undermine Corbyn. It couldn’t be better. Maybe some of them will come across to us after the election.
Had a few emails to deal with. The little scheme that ends up in Grand Cayman is looking very healthy. I am going to market the investment through a few discrete friends. It is safer than houses and no-one will ever know where the money is hidden. And it is all completely legal too. What is the point of being in government if you don’t get the chance to make something from it?
Started to read The (Sunday) Telegraph but it was unbelievably boring, as always, and totally lacking in news. Took a gun out and tried to discourage a few rabbits, but never got near. Managed to bag a cock pheasant that wandered in front of me at point blank range. It may be out of season, but who will know? Blew its bloody head clean off and it made me feel a whole lot better. Then Preece saw me throwing the body of the bird to the dogs and gave me a disapproving look, saying something like, ‘No gentleman would do that’. I saw him shaking his head.
After lunch I had a call from Minty saying that she will send the stuff for Mrs Astrid Ferrao Longly as an attachment, for me to print out when I get back to my parliamentary office. Just the thought of that woman gets me aroused. Decided not to risk another bout with Caroline, though I was tempted to call the maid. I organised Caesar to give me a lift to the station in the Audi, after giving the GLW a brisk peck on the cheek. The journey is bloody long and uncomfortable. Still, that’s what comes of living out in the sticks. I have some notes Anya has made about the first part of her research. Looking forward to reading her précis of what the old man achieved.
Who knows but I will get a promotion after the election. Then I will achieve what I set out to do when I got myself elected. Then, old man, I won’t be so useless after all, and I may yet be a man of destiny, a true statesman. Whatever happens after the election I want to be in a position where my star is rising.
Monday 24th April 2017
On the way to The House I stopped for a skinny hazelnut macchiato at Starbucks. I was going to take it away when I stopped to listen to a conversation between two hipsters. They were spouting the usual nonsense about some new age crap when one made a remark that got me thinking. He said that social media was making a lot of people into opinion formers. I see an opportunity to raise my profile, and do it in a way which will get to the younger, switched on people. At the same time I will try to get an opinion piece in The Telegraph, as soon as I have an opinion, that is.
Met Trevor Bains, my Labour pair on the way to the office. He is a thoroughly decent sort, for a grammar school boy. In a different world he would be a good councillor for us. New Labour, through and through. He doesn’t have a safe seat, so I may have to get a new pair after we trounce them in the election, if they still have enough to worry about pairing. I asked how he thought it was going, and he said that they were stuffed because of Corbyn, and he laughed bitterly. All the polls are massively in our favour, as are all the sensible newspapers. Only the shufflers who read the Mirror or the pathetically few who take The Guardian won’t get the message.
Abigail, my Westminster PA, was waiting for me in the office and I told her about my ideas for using social media. She said she hoped I wasn’t going to start tweeting like Donald Trump and sneered. I said that Trump got through to his supporters via those tweets and he was playing to his audience. She said that I would have to build up an audience first. We discussed my web-site and decided it needed a bit of updating. In fact she said that if there was a competition for the most boring website in the world, mine would definitely be in the top ten. I told her that she was welcome to jazz it up a bit, if she had any suggestions that I liked. She said that one of her friends was a web developer, whatever that is, and she would ask him to make some suggestions. It will cost, of course, but I obviously need to improve on that side of my publicity machine.
Sent a message to the Home Office about the lovely Astrid’s daughter. I will hear from them in a couple of days. Then I sent an email to Minty to get the Jaguar sorted.
Had a look at the business for the day, and decided that I am not needed until the vote tonight. Thought about going to the Gym, but decided against it. Had a decent lunch at my club, then called on a certain tax advisor friend. He gave me some ideas about a few wheezes which could prove useful.
Went back home to Chelsea and had to step around some dosser by my front door. Called the Police to get him moved on. We can’t have that sort of thing round here. There is nothing like having a few homeless around to lower the property values. One of the perks of being on a Police committee is that the Police are always very helpful when I ask for a favour. The letting agents for the block in Dalston say that one of the flats has become vacant. I have an idea about who the new tenant could be. I sent a text to the Hussy. I’m sure that she will be suitably grateful. Suggested that she show her gratitude tomorrow, at the flat in Dalston.
Went to cast my vote, as lobby fodder for some nonsense the cabinet has decided. It’s easy, really, you just go the way the whips point you. Gavin himself was there, the annoying little tick. He needs taking down a peg or three, IMHO. There must be something in his past that I can make use of, like Govey had on old Boris. You don’t get to rise in this party by being white as the driven. Bumped into that absolutely dreadful DUP oik, KN. He walks around like some Old Testament prophet, preaching fire and brimstone, while always being open to a bung at the same time.
Went back to Chelsea and decided to do a spot of research. So I watched a few episodes of House of Cards. Kevin Spacey is wonderful, isn’t he? Got a few ideas, but won’t other people know where I got these ideas from?