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.

Monday, April 7, 2008


I came into the office today to hear Rhona screaming down the phone, obscenities spewing from her lips like a wino in the Grassmarket. Nothing struck me as unusual until she burst into tears and ran to the toilet, pausing only to flatten Kenny with a right-hook and knocking him from his chair so that his head banged against the barrel of pickled hooper swans he keeps for snack-attacks.

As I tried to resuscitate Kenny - I drew the line at mouth-to-mouth, as he tastes of a mix of Embassy fags and illegally syphoned red diesel - Rhona reappeared having repainted her face and drawn a wide swipe of scarlet lipstick across her face, most of which was on her mouth, and tried to arrange a video conference call to Mr Angus, who seemed to be constantly unavailable.

After 15 minutes of reconnection and disconnection, 2 hours of support calls to Government IT (conducted at a disgracefully high volume, and with increasingly disparaging and rude terms - I do not think it is possible that Mr and Mrs Patel could do what she suggested with a tandoori oven and a gallon tub of rice) contact was finally made when the suggestion was relayed to Mr Angus that Rhona would have to phone him at home if he kept cutting her off.

Well, I have never been as mortified as today when I had to listen to some anatomically precise statements mixed with what Kenny explained to me later were the kind of endearments he whispers in the ear of the ewe before the 'special time'. I had to dictate again a number of letters as it was not possible to hear any of my words above the berating, pleading and crying from the other side of the desk. We were both grateful when Rhona bellowed "But I never liked you anyway!" before breaking the phone into small pieces across the back of Kenny's head.

It was bad enough that the handset was broken, but when she started with the base unit and then the wall mounted switchbox I was forced to intervene, removing the phone cable from Kenny's throat before he turned entirely blue. I had to revive him with a sweet cup of tea with seven sugars (the usual), a salt-herring in orange-juice and 20 fags simultaneously.

Later that day Mr Angus phoned to apologise for the loss of service on his IT equipment which he explained was due to a malfunctioning bi-location transporter part not being as good as the one he invented in Primary School, and explained that reluctantly Rhona had decided to accept another job underneath another SNP MSP and he had reluctantly accepted her resignation on the understanding that she say nothing about anything that ever happened anywhere, ever, and took a pay increase as compensation. He was sorry to lose her, but she wanted to have a permanent position, and it was all for the good, but we must never mention her name ever again, especially not in front of Jane.

Just then the door opened and the new member of staff arrived. Her name is Rona, which as Kenny remarked through the blood and bandages "Makes it easy to remember her name in the morning". I don't know what he was getting at, and before I could ask he lapsed into a coma.

Pieces of telephone found in office: 558
Pieces of telephone found in Kenny: 326
Pieces of Kenny found in telephone: 7

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.