Vote SNP - we know where you live

Alasdair Allan

This is a private journal about all the exciting things that have happened to me since I stood as MSP for Gordon the Western Isles. I am dedicated to the people of Gordon the Western Isles, and there is nowhere else I would rather represent. I even intend to live there soon.

I am not to be mistaken for for that imposter who pretends to be an MSP.

I really like this dynamic and exciting blog layout, which suits me perfectly.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

A wonderful conference

Mr Alex was so good this week, he just couldn't put a foot wrong and he is such an inspiration to all the members of the SNP, and the general public, and all the voters, and their children and their children's children, and the Diplomats from Qatar, Zimbabwe, Vanuatu and Cardiff, and the people in England who haven't yet got the opportunity to vote for Mr Alex, and the people of the European Union who should make sure Mr Alex gets a seat at the top table, where they will all hang on his every word. Just like I do.

Mr Alex acknowledged my presence many times, looking in my general direction more than once, and clearly looking straight through me whilst speaking from the podium. His speech was so good that I didn't need the electric shock from the implant to encourage me to stand up and give a spontaneous round of applause as we were all trained to do right through the week and as the special delegates agenda clearly instructed us to do. There were only four spontaneous rounds of applause scheduled for the week, but we actually managed five, without serious repercussions.

The Conference carried on into the Sunday, and the fact that the Western Isles SNP had previously mandated the party never to hold a Conference on the Sunday was abandoned in the wild celebrations and spontaneous partying as men wept with joy and women beat their breasts
at every sight of Mr Alex. Well, at least Alan and I wept uncontrollably on each other's shoulders for hours at a time.

Mr Angus and Rhona were busy together most of the time, with Mr Angus having a lot of letters to write, and Rhona having to go to his Suite for most of the Conference. Whatever work had to be done was obviously very successful as both of them were smiling and winking at each other all through the rest of the Conference.

As Conference closed the word spread though the hall that at the conclusion of his speech six women in Glasgow had spontaneously given birth to twins and that all twelve children had been named 'Alex' in his honour. His sporting feats seem to emulate Kim Il-Sung of North Korea, as I was reliably informed that on Thursday he had skied all the way from the top of the Cairngorms to the conference in under five minutes, despite never having skied before, and that he had achieved a hole-in-one on every hole at the local crazy golf course, a feat never before managed by any mere mortal.

As Mr Alex left the hall, a spontaneous group of women (Edinburgh SNP ladies section) spontaneously laid petals in a carpet for him to walk from the hall, and cast lilies, roses and daffodils in front of him as he walked imperiously to where we who are not worthy
were waiting so that he could grace us with his presence.

I left the hall totally overwhelmed, and when Mr Bruce told me that I would be lodging a spontaneously written motion, which he had written for me earlier, to the next session of Parliament calling on Mr Alex to be given the title of 'Divine Being, and Ruler of the Known Galaxies, and Glasgow' and become First Minister for life I could barely contain my excitement. So it was an urgent visit to the toilets and I was glad I had taken some clean underwear with me.

I collected Kenny from the bar where he had spent the entire week reciting to other delegates the complete list of ear markings in sheep from Ness to Barvas, or comharra-cluais as it is known in Gaelic. After four days, he had only reached the description of the practices in Dell, and was very disappointed to have to stop so soon without giving a full listing of the families and the crofts they owned since records were kept, but the various new friends he had made seem to have had to make their excuses and leave after only five minutes.

So back to Edinburgh tomorrow, where I will receive the motion that Kenny will type up from the instructions dictated by HQ, and my future is secured.

Spontaneous action undertaken, as instructed: 27
Gaelic words spoken: 555
Hankies need laundered due to tears of joy: 3

I've read my wise words this many times

* No, not really. If you haven't worked out that this is a satirical exercise, then please get a life. And find one for Alasdair.