Sunday morning. The birds twitter, last night’s puke sparkles forlornly in the gutter, and sensible citizens lie abed, curling up with the papers. Aha! What’s this I see?
In extracts of her diaries published today, Prescott’s diary secretary Tracey Temple claims she performed oral sex on the deputy prime minister in his Whitehall office.
Jesus wept. Talk about curdling the milk on your cornflakes. That one’s here to stay, I’m afraid. It’s burned on the retinas. I can just see him hopping up and down, like a toddler in a high chair anticipating lunch.
You may come here in hope of political analysis. I’m not fucking well analyzing that. Analyze it yourselves, if you’re so keen.