Christmas greetings to my humble voters

Once again Mr Alex has ensured a white Christmas for everyone in Scotland, which is a 25% increase on the previous Labour administration and despite unjustified budget cuts of over a £100,000,000 per Scottish household imposed by the failing Labour administration.

This season always makes me think of my favourite Christmas stories and how the passing year can best be described in those terms.

Mr Alex is - of course - Father Christmas - dispensing gifts to everyone in Scotland and bringing joy and glad throughout the land.

The elves who toil away all year with no recognition, and do exactly as they are told without question, are of course my colleagues in the SNP Parliamentary group.

The reindeer - Dancer, Prancer, Chancer, Vixen, Saxon, Donald and Blitzed - are the CalMac ferries bringing Santa across the seas using the RET scheme to lower the overall cost to the hauliers, to allow them to extend their houses and buy a larger and more expensive holiday home.

The bunch of mistletoe is represented by Mr Angus (enough said!)

For myself, I see the good work I modestly do and the great publicity provided to me by my independent press officer at the Stornoway Gazette, Donnie MacInnes. I know I bring happiness everywhere I go, as the Gazette reports accurately alongside the photograph captioned "Opening a door in Garynahine" or "Welcoming the Scottish Government grant of £250 for Mingulay Golf Course" or "Carrying the bags for the Minister on their visit" or "Launching the campaign for a winter fuel allowance for sheep" or "Making the speech at the SNP St Andrews Night (cancelled)".

I know that I sprinkle happiness across the constituency whenever I make a visit to any group or to any location in the Western Isles, so that I hope that when my constituents think of me they see me in that light, sprinkling my magic everywhere, and think of me as the fairy on the top of the tree.

Allowed to blog again!

Mr Mike phones to tell me that the party ban on blogging has been lifted, but only if I destroy all the old records of all our telephone calls, emails, letters, texts, Christmas cards and postcards. I am able to tell Mr Mike that I had long ago destroyed all the details of 'Operation Smear' which never happened.

I have brunt all the records of the BlackOp during the annual WickerSheep festival in Ness and then cast the ashes into Broadbay during the annual beach clean.

Mr Alex had already send out instructions that all members were to co-operate fully with any investigation into rude messages on the internet, and as part of that process we were to scrub all the hard disks on all out computers, and bring any printed material in for scanning in the new cross-cut scanner and shredder that HQ have bought.

I took the news back to the office, where Rhona was opening the brand new computer equipment with clean hard disks and secure communications using the innovative Scottish communications software - Salmondnet - to keep track of what we are all doing.

As part of the security arrangements, Kenny was using the office scissors to cut the old mouse cable into 100 pieces, and was sitting in a large pile of shattered hard disks, zip drives and 1mm square diced printouts from the filing cabinet.

Kenny explained in words of four letters how the new rules meant that he had been forced to stop blogging and close down his various blogs, and not use the Parliamentary computers for party political purposes.

Kenny is no longer allowed to post anonymously to various sites as "Non-aligned_Scot", "freeThinker", "GordonBrownIsALiar", "FergussonMassey", "NuLabour_NuLies", "BrianWilsonsBum", "ABMacneil" and "LabourAreDead".

He showed me the blogs as he set about closing them down, as I needed to certify to the independent Scottish Parliamentary authorities i.e. Mr Alex, that no staff working for me had ever, ever, ever, run any of the sites that were now being closed.

"The Salmond runs free" was his first ever blog and was a peon of praise to Mr Alex, with detailed articles averaging 10,000 words thoroughly analysing what a good job Mr Alex was doing, and posted in various alter-egos of Kenny. Average hits exceeded 2 a day.

"Tractors for work and pleasure" was a detailed assessment of the merits of the 35x compared to the 188 model and with a gallery of over 10,000 photos of the different bonnet badges, 6 cylinder oil filters and refurbished clutch parts. Blog membership over 6,000, some of whom have actually spoken to a woman.

I wasn't allowed to see "Playsheep", as it was 'under construction'.

The most urgent to be removed was his attack blog "Lunch with Politicians" in which the readers suggested which type of sandwich would suit each politician. The lead story was about how Kenny the author thought that Alasdair Darling MP deserves a nice fresh ciabatta with fresh lettuce, tomato, shredded guga and mutton, and doused with castrol gtx which should be rammed down his throat until he choked on his own deficit. I didn't quite manage to read the story about another Scottish MP and a toblerone baguette. Page hits c.1,000 per week all from the Scottish Parliament web server.

I am able to tell Mr Alex that this is another job well done, and to avoid any tell tale evidence ever being found I have swallowed the letter confirming the situation and 24 imodium, and I will personally deliver the news after I return to civilisation in Edinburgh and the laxatives take effect.

Expenses scandal continues

Mr Angus phoned this morning to say that he had received an unwarranted and unnecessary letter from Sir Thomas Legg asking for more information about his expenses.

I have to ask Rhona to hit Kenny a few times to stop him laughing as I can hardly hear Mr Angus, who is phoning from the Union Jack club.

Mr Angus has been asked to explain a few of his claims:

• Exceeding the annual Toblerone limit of four bars
• Mini bar £145.76 at the Hilton, Soho
• Fourteen receipts in the name of Mr & Mrs Smith at the Union Jack Club
  
• One set pink-furry handcuffs (essential for when Mr Angus went to the US to train the Las Vegas PD!)
• Gold-plated fireplace for the flat in London
• 4 gallons red diesel
• 1 pair wellies and a boiler suit from Lewis Crofters
• Miscellaneous medical products from Dirty Mac's peep-show and adult equipment emporium
• 1 dance studio (complete) delivered to Tangasdale, Barra but apparently installed in the flat in London
• 1 pair of sheep shears from Co-Chomunn Iochair
• "Hot, wet and bouncy" DVD (volumes 1-327)
• 14 pairs silk boxers (medium)
• 14 gallon tub of whipping cream
• 4 ceiling mirrors - London
• Air filter for a Massey Ferguson
• Twenty bunches of flowers delivered to Tangasdale
• Twenty "I am very, very sorry" cards sent with above
• Two bottles baby oil - jumbo size

Mr Angus is very distraught, not least as Mrs Jane has been going through his travel claims and wants to know why he keeps missing the plane to Barra and has to stay over in Glasgow.

Mr Angus tells me to phone Mrs Jane when I get home and placate her with confirmation that these were all urgent SNP meetings that he was attending.

Apparently she mustn't rock the boat, as confidentially Mr Angus is being lined up to become the SNP
Scottish Government cultural attaché in the United States after the election results are announced, with special portfolio for young women.  How can he manage that and be an MP, I wonder?

I promise to phone Mrs Jane tonight, after I have got myself into my flannelette Fimbles pyjamas and have a cup of decaf anti-oxidant tannin-free camomile and rhubarb infusion.

I cannot tell anyone else about Mr Angus' good news, but I wonder how he will break it to Kenny and Rh
ona that they are moving to Washington AC?  I slide out the door without anyone noticing and slip into the warm and welcoming Alex, my lovely car, for the two hour journey home to Vatisker and the pressing need to tell lies to Mrs Jane.

Ally Bassett MacRahy

After I voted - as instructed - for that mass-murder to be released on the grounds that (a) he was innocent, and (b) it would embarrass Labour, he has the temerity to question Scottish Justice and by implication Mr Alex and Mr Kenny, and The Project.

Worst of all, he has not published his allegations in Gaelic in accordance with the Gaelic Language Plans (Release of murderers to other Jurisdictions) Act 2009.

There are many people in the Western Isles and beyond who want, nay deserve, the right to ignore this website in a language of their own choosing.

I have written to Mr Kenny demanding that Mr MacRahy's parole is revoked and that he is brought back from Liverpool to Barlinnie, so that we can them release him again on compassionate grounds, after giving him a good talking to, to show just how munificent and wonderful the SNP really are.

Kenny is still unwell since the announcement about the rocket range, and the odour of guga and Tennants in the office is starting to subside. At least upstairs, as the gasses seem to be heavier than air.

Mr Angus is missing, having missed his connections in London (twice) and he is not answering messages left at the Union Jack Club; even when Rhona pretends that he has won a years supply of Toblerones.

Rocket range saved!

Doom and gloom in the Stornoway office, which makes me glad to be back in civilisation in Edinburgh and away from the tedious expectations of representation from constituents.

Mr Angus phoned first thing this morning from the new SNP Embassy building he has just organised in the Spearmint Rhino building in Washington to tell me that there was bad news.

It looks like Labour have done the dirty on us and are planning to keep the Range open.

Mr Angus is almost in tears and he can hardly managed to order another Toblerone and raid the minibar on expenses, whilst giving a $10 note to one of the staff, who he says can hardly afford enough to buy clothes to wear.

I am furious and I will be urgently trying to speak to Mr Alex and Mr John later this week to find if there is any way that this deception by Labour can be reversed, as there are two jobs in the Western Isles that are more important than any others.

I program my phone to block all calls from Uist, only to remember I did this a month ago.

My very personal assistant brings me a cup of rosemary and nettle tea and another boxes of silk hankies, and gently dabs my eyes. "Is there anything I can do for you? Anything?", he asks in his softest most comforting voice. I look straight into his deep limpid eyes, and a smile crosses my face: "Yes, see if Alex Orr is free tonight."

Rocket range

I have just discovered that QinetiQ have been advertising for someone to run the range from England. This is the proof that we have been waiting for that the range is to close!

Mr Angus is ecstatic. He phoned me from Las Vegas where he was meeting with some young business women to discuss the possibility of them building a casino in Balivanich, although they seem to be more interested in providing the ancillary services. Mr Angus is flying back to Washington - for the traditional SNP fund-raising Scottish ceilidh and ribs bbq, washed down with bottles of lo-cal diet decaf McCoors no-alcohol lite - before they notice his absence.

He has instructed a press release to be issued on his behalf and has told me to put the champagne on ice for his return in October, as the closure is going to guarantee his re-election forever.

After careful thought I have issued the following balanced statement, which I think captures the sombre mood of the people of Uist:

Not since the battle of Culloden has the death of so many islanders been on the hands of an English Government.

A veritable Passchendaele of devastation is being planned by Labour in Uist with the planned closure of the rocket range and the mass drowning of the workers to avoid relocation costs or redundancy payments.

In my hand I hold the evidence that it is planned to level the site and bulldoze St Kilda into the sea, in breach of all the UN resolutions.

Despite literally months of work by Mr John over the past few weeks, which included sending someone to meetings, and speaking to me twice, the SNP Government has been ignored by Labour who have singularly failed to make the telephone calls to tell Mr John or Mr Angus that the SNP are right and that the range is saved.

Mr Angus has worked tirelessly, ignoring the interference of the Taskforce (myself excepted) and despite having his phone being on constantly, he has not been phoned by the Minister, the Secretary of State, anyone at the Range or by the Taskforce (well not more than 10 times, but they aren't helping his re-election campaign much).

With deep disappointment, I look forward to blaming Labour for Uist sinking slowly into the sea.

Kenny walks into the office at this moment, cracking open a bottle of Old Rapier 2 month old whisky ("Have a dram before you are fired") and finishing a 1 litre bottle of Deady Lightning cider. "Success", he cried - dodging the paper punch that Rhona passed to him at high speed as he tripped over the waste basket and his face connected with Rhona's knee jerk - "Our [expletive deleted] jobs are safe for another [expletive deleted] election or two!" Rubbing the blood from his nose with a copy of the Gazette, he passed round the now nearly empty bottle and a celebratory bag of Cross Stores celebrated oven-roasted hamster crisps, with paprika.

As Kenny slowly lapsed into a coma a gentle smile played across our faces as we realised the truth of his slurred words.

College graduation

I have been invited to the graduation ceremony at the University of the Highland and Islands at Lews Castle College. I am delighted to attend to show the students just what a real degree like the ones I have can help them achieve, if they are ever able to attend a real university.

I drive to the College, taking the speed humps at not more that 5mph, and I lead the procession of cars - all tooting their horns in celebration - into the car park, where I park carefully at the third attempt.

Carrying my degree certificates inconspicuously in their golden frames above my head, I sit in the audience to watch the first degrees being issued. Actually, due to necessary budget re-prioritisations caused by Labour incompetence and delivered in a wonderful fashion by Mr John in all his budgets, the core budget for the proposed UHI has been increased in a negative manner by about 5% and the award of full University status has been advanced through a process of re-evaluation of the process involving an extension of the timeframe for award from three years to infinity and beyond.

It is important to remind the students that their degrees are not as good or as valuable as mine, as this will only serve to encourage them to try harder.

After the ceremony, I am surrounded by a group of male hairdressing students who are all desperate to share grooming tips with me, and invite me to a private party later. I explain repeatedly about my degrees, but all they are interested in is giggling and asking about my hair gel.

Mr Angus has better luck, arranging to show some female students his awards later, and he has arranged private tuition with two or three of them for later that evening.

No-one seems that interested in talking about my PhD, as they all want to have a good time, so I leave at the earliest opportunity and head off to Tesco for a bottle of red wine and a meal for one. After dinner, I climb into my In the Night Garden pyjamas, re-affix my degree certificates to wall, ensure the 200w spotlights focus on them, open the bottle of red wine, and try to connect with Mr Orr on the webcam.

Press release: Celtic Festival "A Success"

Embargoed until 9pm 17 July.

The 2009 Hebridean Celtic Festival has been described as another outstanding success by Dr Alasdair Allan.

“This is the third Festival delivered under an SNP Government – something that Labour refused to do in office – and I it is the best yet.

“The lesson to be learned from this event is that an independent Scotland could show the world that we can nurture, produce and export world-beating artistes such as Africa Umbongo, the Vancouver Barbershop Quartet, Nova Scotia’s Flying Maraccas Sisters and the lilting Cajun sounds of Swedish thrash-metal combo ÜberDěathFuЖ, who sang in Swedish Gaelic.

“I spent the week in the Big Top (Kenny, check this is right) shaking my funky thang to the beats and getting down with the kids (Kenny!).

“It was heartening to see the youth of Lewis coming together - sharing their herbal cigarettes, anti-malarial tablets and bottles of Old McGregors 3-year-old Loch Portain Sump Oil “One dram will have you sailing” at the back of the tent behind the healthy-eating burger stalls, and just out of sight of the bouncers and the Police.

“The continued success of the festival was in no small measure to the good word I put in to Mr Alex about how good it was, and to the involvement of Mr Angus in providing musical support to the artistes.

“Mr Angus was able to explain to an audience of young female performers how he wrote his first symphony aged 3 before retiring from performing aged 10, having filled Carnegie Hall for a record 419 nights in a row.

“Mr Angus was utterly dedicated to the cause, working late into the night and all the way into the early morning; offering to show all the young females his fingering technique, and he was last seen trying to arrange private lessons in a local hotel room.

“The organisers and attendees should remember that the continuing success of the Festival is entirely dependant upon voting correctly at coming elections, and we have their names and details on file.

Visiting Constituents

Kenny can barely contain his excitement, spluttering through a mackerel jalfresi that I’ve been invited to meet my most remote constituent:

“Dear Dr Allan” it quite precisely began,

I am your most remote constituent and I would be grateful if you would come and see me. I have enclosed a ticket and a timetable to make it even easier for you.

I am currently working in a herring research lab in South Georgia, and if you catch the plane to Buenos Aires from Balivanich International, you will arrive just in time for us to have a meeting just before I finish my six-month shift.

Unfortunately, I cannot afford a return ticket, but you can wait here until the next plane returns with me. I look forward to seeing you soon.

Donald J MacSween (no relation)

Sadly the invitation clashes with my visit to St Kilda, and I have been reading up on the islands in my I-Spy Book of Uninhabitable Places. The islands are named after the town in Australia where the first settlers set sail in wooden Coracles in the 1300’s. When they landed on the Scottish islands they knew that they had found paradise, only with limited food supplies, horrendous weather and no human contact.

One of their number blessed the islands, and at that moment the SNP symbol appeared in the sky pointing them towards safety and Salmond Bay, where they landed and were attacked by giant rats. Within literally decades the settlers had killed and eaten the rats and driven out all the snakes, except for the deadly Qinetiq Asp.

There are five islands: Hoist, Seachd: The Inaccessible Pinnacle, The Old Man of Lochnagar, Tristan de Cunha and Fraggle Rock. It is on the latter that we will stay, living in the wild, with only our wits and our basic supplies to keep us alive. Like the former residents (who were murdered by Labour for voting SNP in the 1945 elections) we will have to scale the dangerous and perilous cliffs of Mordor to get our every provision in a precarious battle for survival.

At the base of the precipice lies our encampment, blown by the wind from three directions, and sheltered from the North. The high winds often catch unwary sheep and blow them down the North face reaching up to 100 miles per hour before they crash into buildings, people and even the sea. The sheep seem to enjoy the experience – one of Kenny’s favourite phrases – and can be seen making their way to the most exposed ridge in some kind of ovine extreme sport.

Huddled around open fires to keep warm, when we are not in the Holiday Inn, Village Bay, the smell of the cooking from the Military Base and the bar in the Puff Inn will mean that we will undoubtedly climb into the Land Rover for the trip to the top.

I will be travelling with the National Trust for Scotland who are there to try to drive out the remaining Qinetiq’s asp, representing as they do, the *British* Army and our job is to sympathetically beat these snakes to death and cast them into the sea. Obviously this might have an impact on some of my voters, so I am going in disguise myself in a low-profile mission about which I will make sure that there is no publicity.

Prior to leaving, Kenny has booked me into the British Legion, Balivanich, or as I prefer to call it, the Dark Island Hotel.

Kenny has thoughtfully provided some basic supplies from The Star of Skigersta Indo-Chino take-away including Rogan Josh Greylag Goose, Sweet’n’sour Guga, Hedgehog Tandoori and a portion of Red-throated Diver Chow Mein.

With any luck, by the time I return the hated *British* Army will be expelled from the islands forever, with no effect on my majority.

Uist job losses

I have lodged the following motion in Parliament to make sure that responsibility for the closure of the rocket range in Uist is clearly identified.

Today's news that the Labour Westminster Government have decided to cause the collapse of the economy of Uist by closing the Rangehead facility in West Garnish and throwing 215 employees into the sea over the next 4 years is a body blow for a community that is barely recovering from having a Labour MP and MSP until they were rescued from the depth of despair by Mr Angus and I.

Clearly the First Minister and Enterprise Minister and the Finance Minister and the Housing Minister and everyone else are too busy rescuing the Scottish economy from the ravages of the global campaign to destroy our wonderful successes in keeping jobs in Scotland and blaming someone else for our mistakes.

I hope that the Parliament will unite to demand that the Labour Westminster Government are decapitated and their heads nailed to top of the fence around Camp West, Benbecula, to show the public just what voting Labour can bring.

Together, the Parliament must demand that the Government insist that Westminster force Gordon Brown and his Labour acolytes to crawl on their knees from London to Uist and apologise in person to each and every inhabitant of the islands and bring an emergency rescue package [details of which I have no idea about] in used Scottish £10 notes to ensure that Mr Alex and the rest of the Government do not have to do anything constructive.

In the meantime, the rockets should be moved to be aimed at England until such time as someone finds some money to get me out of trouble.

Signatures: A Allan, A Alan, Alastair MacAllan, Alan MacAlastair, MacAllan 12-year-old, Numpty McToady, MacAlastair MacAllan, Brainless Moron, Alex Orrifice.

A phone call from Uist from Clr Manford tells me I am on the subject of adoration and approval in the islands when he tells me that the best place for me is as far away from Uist as possible, as many constituents want to explain why they don't want to see me there for a very long time.

Another successful day, and so to bed to watch Newsnight in bed in my brand new retro Rhubarb and Custard romper suit.

Sunday sailings

The Lords Day Observance Society have not been very helpful in trying to force me and Mr Angus to restate our views on the vexed issue of Sunday sailings of the CalMac ferry which I am told runs over the sea between Stornoway and Ullapool.

Kenny has told Mr Angus and I that under no circumstances must we offend the Free Church, as that would mean that Mr Maroot would be likely to remove his essential financial support for the local branch, and without that £500 per year we would be in serious trouble!

After much discussion with Donnie Gazette we have come up with a coherent policy that he has written for us that makes sure that the public know exactly where we stand in this vital issue. I have issued this press statement far and wide, but especially to the late John MacLeod who has demeaned his position as an independent journalist by not taking the view that Mr Angus and I tell him to take. I have instructed Kenny to write to Mr Alex suggesting that the Daily Mail be purged for the list of approved newspapers in an Independent Scotland and the John MacLeod be immediately placed on the list of banned writers that an independent commission, which has yet to be appointed, add to the first version of the persona non grata.

My statement is a masterpiece of clarity that should make it entirely clear where I stand.

I am someone who strongly supports the rights of the individual.

I would personally never use a Sunday ferry, as I believe that Sunday is a very special day on which we should not do any work, other than when I am engaged on SNP business on the mainland or campaigning for the SNP or otherwise instructed to do something by Mr Alex. Also my plane fares are paid by the Parliament and I would be foolish to spend seven hours [Kenny is this right?] on the boat when I can fly to Edinburgh in one hour on expenses.

It is not right that Sunday ferries are imposed on any section of the community who may, or may not, be willing, or not accepting, of a decision or otherwise after due consultation and public involvement of the community in reaching a view that should be accepted by the company.

Further, without public representation on the matter, the position is not clear and I urge California MacBrian to review the failure to provide the consultation in Gaelic.

This matter is not a political decision and my view is therefore not relevant to the decision that is being made by Balamory MacBrain, as instructed by Mr Stewart.

I have written to Mr Stewart making it clear that if he had any say in the matter then I hope he will listen to my constituents views that the decision to implement Sunday sailings has been a political decision taken by the Labour Party in the Comhairle with the sole purpose of trying to undermine my credibility as a leader of the community opinion.

Other than that, I will make no comment on a decision has nothing to do me.

Phew! That has got me off the hook, and the local party will be delighted with my clear and logical stance.

Kenny has issued the press release and unplugged his phone, directing all calls to me. The first of which comes from a sobbing John MacLeod muttering Gaelic obscenities and curses in equal order at my lack of backbone and decisiveness. How dare he!

I had asked Mr Alex to expel John MacLeod with immediate effect, but I needn't have bothered as he later returned his membership card attached to four white feathers. Still attached to a whole, fresh chicken.

Kenny broke the joyous news, ate the chicken, feathers and all, and he celebrated another success by opening a tin of lobster and goose broth which he washed down with pint glass of low alcohol Vin de Swainbost Chenin Rouge (24% proof) and 6 Regal.

Home to bed and my collection of the speeches of Mr Alex and the Transformers box set.

Expenses. Grrrrr

The fascist Tory rag, the Daily Mail, has some utterly untrue and scurrilous allegations about me and my expenses that are so deeply disturbing that I break into tears at the sight of them.

Graeme, my Very Personal Assistant, mopped my tears with some of the special cherry and lilac balm tissues that were sent to me by the committee of the Scottish Transvestites for RET and Gaelic Cheques (Lewis Branch) following my brilliant speech at their AGM, which was attended by the entire branch membership of one, and constituted my major public engagement for the year.

Mr Angus phoned to commiserate, and deny any responsibility in passing the original papers to the Daily Mail or to next week's Scotland on Sunday, and offered to send some Toblerones and a bottle of white wine he had been gifted by the fees office.

I have written to all members to set out my innocence in this matter, and I left the office in a deep dark mood, leaving Kenny chewing on some honey roast Otter jerky and fielding the phone calls from irate branch members who had been stupid enough to believe what they read.

I have sent the members the following email which they will believe:

You may have read in the Daily Mail that I have claimed outrageous expenses for many costs that I should have paid personally, and if you read the Daily Mail you should contact the office to return your membership and apply for rethink training immediately.

These stories are lies and have no truth in them whatsoever, as they didn't listen to what I said in mitigation when they caught me out showed me what I have claimed for.

- Contrary to the lies put out to hide the fact that Gordon Brown was personally responsible for the murder of millions of children in Iran or Iraq or Iceland, I did not claim for weapons of mass destruction being located in Scotland.

- I did not claim for the wreath or the poppies or the poppy in my lapel that I borrowed from Brian MacPherson when I attended the Remembrance Sunday event in Benbecula.

- Nor did I claim for the shoe leather, chaffing to my trousers, or the vast cost of hair gel required to keep my quiff stable in the high winds.

- The claim for the wreath was entirely within the permissible claims allowed by the Parliament and I have no intention of returning the money, so there.

- I did not claim for my travel to the event, beyond the usual travel expenses involving a 100% reimbursement of all costs incurred, including hotels.

- I will not return the cost of the wreaths as I did nothing wrong, except in the unlikely event that Mr Alex will tell me to do so. So there.

- I did not claim for the 'Go faster stripes' on the side of my Nissan Micra sportscar, which have increased the top speed from 29 mph to 31 mph, (with a tail wind) but not that I would go that fast anyway.

- I explained to the Daily Mail that I had not been involved in any 'Toblerone action' in any hotels in London, but they didn't report this.

- I am making a donation equivalent to the cost of the wreath (£17.40) to show my understanding of the complexity of the situation as instructed by Mr Alex in a brief bollocking down the telephone

- I have not made any dodgy claims as I earn so much money that you just wouldn't believe and that you are just not as clever as me to earn and I don't need the money (unlike others who have claimed for hotels, wine and chocolates!)

- If anyone asks you about this, I am saintly, innocent and it is all scurrilous gossip by newspapers with nothing better to do than print facts about the SNP when they should be printing lies about Labour

- I am more than happy to talk to anyone who has any 'issues' with this, as long as they accept that I am in the right.

If you need any more information, please contact Kenny who will stall you for a few days until your anger dies down.

Lots of love and death to Labour

Alasdair

Expenses - put to rest

Mr Angus and I were delighted when Donnie Gazette sent through the objective and unbiased article that he was writing for this week's Gazette, and we thanked Cathie his wife for bringing it to the Branch meeting that she Chairs.

After a thorough, in-depth and detailed investigation by the fearless Gazette, they are going to publish the truth about Mr Angus' expenses claims. I have carefully read the article and consider myself entirely satisfied with the conclusions.

MP lead the campaign against excessive expenses.

In a turbulent week for the House of Commons, Angus MacNeil spoke exclusively to the Gazette about the outrageous claims about his expenses being made by a Skye based newspaper (The West Highland Free Telegraph).

"I have led the battle to change the system by setting down 317 early day motions over the past two weeks and supporting over 700 abstentions by the SNP from voting over the past five years on any substantive proposals. This discredited Labour Government has cut pensions from pensioners in order to pay MPs expenses for badger stuffing, third homes allowances for cojoined-twin MPs, dungeon polishing and private inter-planetary spaceships for Tony Blair whilst we in the SNP have been consistently exploiting opposing the system."

Addressing the utterly unfounded allegations he was facing, Mr MacNeil explained in a completely open, honest, believable and trustworthy fashion that the croft he bought in central London came with only a small area of ground on which he kept only a small flock of sheep, and didn't receive much subsidy. The needs of the sheep explained a lot of his absence from the Commons, which is why he wanted to move to remote voting in the Commons.

The hotel expenses arose as a result of an accident involving a bottle of whisky and an early flight the next day, and he had drunk only a mouthful of each of the white wine, vodka, Tia Maria, whisky, Pepsi, another white wine, another vodka and Pepsi, a large Malibu and Coke and some other things he found in the fridge only because he thought it was compulsory to empty the minibar in the Union Jack Club.

He wanted to emphasise that no women were present during this visit, despite the errors in the hotel register. And that on other visits he had not claimed for either of them on expenses.

The Toblerone was a present to Alex Salmond who was feeling peckish between his £400 per month food allowances, even though he was not in London at the time.

Mr MacNeil dismissed any talk about who was bunked up with him in the bunk beds, joking "Lembit had the Cheeky Girls, so all's fair....".

Tonight bonfires were being lit throughout the constituency celebrating Mr MacNeil's asceticism, moderate habits and humility. Seven of the bonfires were outside properties he owns and were the scenes of adulation, weeping, gnashing of teeth and drunken attempts to get teenage girls back into hotel rooms. Jackets were compulsory and could not be removed.

An independent opinion poll conducted at 31 Bayhead gave Mr MacNeil of 20% of the popular vote, well ahead of Labour on 99% below, and the bookies have now eased the odds on his re-election to 100-1 on. Allegedly.

The Gazette firmly believes that Mr MacNeil is overdue for sainthood and has written to the Pope in these terms [this bit for the Uist edition only].

It's good to see journalistic standards maintained when the press is under so much pressure to be party political.

Expenses claims

Mr Angus is worked up about the publication of his expenses claims and has asked Kenny and I to check them carefully for anything that might be politically damaging.

I was outraged that the Telegraph sought to embarrass Mr Alex by publishing details of his wholly justified claims. Mr Alex is the most value for money politician that we have ever had in this country, as I tell him every time I have the great fortune to see him. I try to put a note reminding him of his greatness on his desk every day I go to the Parliament, but for some unknown reason Miss Nicola has taken to clearing his desk of my note, the apple and the card with my name and contact details before Mr Alex comes into the building to sweep the floor with the other parties.

Kenny has brought the summary list of expenses that might need review and explanation. I agree to take the first six pages, and he takes the next six to try to identify those that might be really difficult.

Kenny sits in the corner chewing on a slice of couscous and jojoba dumpling from the new Port of Ness Delicatessen and sucking hard on his teeth at everything that might cause problems. The noise soon becomes unbearable, especially when Kenny crunches the gluten-free dandelion and herring rock cakes.

We have identified the following key items that Mr Angus needs to sort out:

• Eradication of moles on the croft (6 claims) £978
• Bouncy castle, with the logo "Bouncing for Scotland" £2,881
• Jockey shorts by Agent Provocateur (1 leather, 1 PVC) £222
• Cleaner (Ms Juanita Geestring) £150 per week while Parliament is sitting
• Six towels from Harrods (Barra branch) £2,163
• The entire Teine collection on CD, vinyl and cassette (signed copies) £24
  
• Two nights in Hotel D'Humping, Paris, in the name of Mr & Mrs Smith €954
• A bill from Annie's Bar, House of Commons, for 6 beers, two large malt whiskies, three tequila sunrises, three Gin & Tonics, two Malibu & Cokes and one Midori & Orange (in the name of Mr MacNeil & secretaries) £7.50
• One inflatable pink sheep
• One Ikea triple bed (last one broke) £644 + delivery
• One tarasgeir £22
  
• One tractor - Massey Ferguson with dropped axles, spoiler and racing stripes in green £6,445
• Valentine day flowers sent to six different addresses (details redacted) - three claims £100
• One Crunchy 45p
  
• Harrods gourmet hamper (birthday present for Kenny) comprising glazed nightingale breasts; six-pack of roast suckling hamster; guga kebabs; compote of venison and marinaded otter; assorted camel cheeses; sweet and sour goose scratchings; caviar pot noodle; 200 embassy regal; terrine of seagull and mole; and a mussel sushi cheesecake £178
• Ann Summers, details illegible £331
• Haircut at Hair4Vanity, Chelsea £195
• Suit by Gervais Gaytrouser of Saville Row £766
• Delivery of one load of peat from Castlebay to London £1155 plus ferry fares
• New office in Tangasdale for Parliamentary assistant (J MacNeil) £250,000
• Crumpets, assorted, £200 per week

But who is going to tell Mrs Jane? Kenny has temporarily developed a speech disorder, and I have to go to Tesco immediately to avoid Voldemort and his family, so it looks like Rhona will have to make the call.

I have phoned Donnie Gazette and get him to write a suitable press release in case the Free Press try to put some kind of bad spin on this affair. He is suggesting "MP does his bit to revitalise the economy after Labour destroy it, killing millions of pensioners."

Swine flu

Never in the annals of human history has a Scottish Government dealt with a major global calamity, caused by Labour, in such an efficient and constructive manner.

The news that Miss Nicola is to send advice to all Scottish homes in both *nglish and Gaelic is clearly the best way to deal with the death and destruction brought upon the planet by successive Labour Governments.

I have seen the *nglish version of the leaflet, which reads as follows:

• Swine flu is nasty and can cause coughs, fevers and death
• Do not cough over anyone
• If coughed upon, gently punch the offender and then bathe the infected areas in one part DDT, one part Lemsip and seven parts neat bleach
• Rub the skin gently with steel wool until fresh blood can be seen
  
• Stay indoors and whitewash your windows from the inside
• Tune in to Radio Alex (Free by 92 FM) and await further instructions
• Do not eat your immediate family unless you have run out of frozen food
• We're all doomed
• Vote SNP

As an immediate step, I have locked Kenny in his car for his own good and impounded his supplies of food, which have been sent for incineration. These include pigs trotters in salmon jelly, a box of suckling pig samosas, pork itchings, barbecued sow and eagle sandwiches on rye bread with marie rose sauce (special offer in Ness Stores as the sell by date was last March), and two bottles of lemon, bean and bacon smoothies from the SWRI (Skigersta Women's Roofing and Insulation Co.).

My very personal assistant Graeme has been clad in a mask and a boiler suit. Much as it makes him look very attractive and shows off his best features, I ask him to get changed into some protective clothing to take the contents of the fridge to the dump in an unmarked van, to show my commitment to civil protection.

With Kenny firmly superglued in the car, the office is running smoothly again, and I resolve to keep him there until the scare is over; which is probably after the election in 2011.

The use of Gaelic

I was utterly appalled at the refusal of the Royal Bank of Scotland to accept cheques written in Gaelic, and I have written in very strong terms to Mr Alex, in Gaelic with a translation in Braid Scots and *nglish, complaining about the situation.

One of my constituents and party member and esteemed Gaelic students, a Mr George Michael Drummond was in a shop in Stornoway trying to buy a new rakish hat, a saving set, Harraidh Potter agus an Orchloch, some rubber accessories and a new bath plug when his cheque was refused by the Labour philistine in the Bank.

I have seen the cheque which reads:
Paidh: Nazir Brathair, Tri fichead quid agus 20p.

How could any Bank that tries to call itself Scottish refuse such a clear instruction?

The pathetic excuse from the Gordon Brown instructed press officer was that all staff have to be able to read the cheque to know how much it is for and that the correct payee is being credited.

Have you ever heard anything as stupid as that. Gaelic is not here to be understood by everyone, but to provide a way for the intellectually superior to demonstrate their unique abilities to communicate in more than one language.

Would the Bank refuse a cheque written in French, or Welsh or Urdu? It is their responsibility to ensure that ALL their staff are properly trained in Gaelic so that customers can write cheques without fear of staff being too stupid to understand another language.

I am so angry that I have had to come home to change my trousers.

Kenny has suggested that perhaps I should be pressing Mr Alex to ensure that Gaelic has equal status in Scotland, but I firmly demolish his argument by pointing out that Mr Alex has too many other things to be worrying about at the moment, such as the attempt by Gordon Brown to reduce the Scottish Budget from £300,000,000 to £750 meaning the likely self-immolation in despair of civil servants such as Kenny. He duly falls silent, marvelling at my rhetoric.

Press release about Arnish reopening

We should all be proud of the immense amount of work undertake by Mr Alex, Mr Angus and I in delivering over 600 new jobs to the new yard in Arnish.

Mr Angus and I fought long and hard to stop the previous factory succeeding as it would have resulted in the islands being entirely covered with those horrible Labour-inspired wind turbines which would have brought death, plague and disaster to the islands on a scale not seen since the Vikings beached their longboats in Achmore and proceeded to place fishfarms in every loch, importing migrant workers from the East (i.e. Point) to put good Lewis people out of jobs.

The resulting unemployment, mortgage arrears, despondency, marital strife and emigration were a small price to pay for the protection of the local way of life (i.e. my election) and for the protection of the wildlife of the islands.

As a consequence, Mr Angus and I are wholly responsible for the highly ongoing successful breeding programme of the black-backed gull and for the preservation of the endangered – and highly secretive – flying stoat of Melbost Borve. This rare nocturnal creature is the only marsupial on the islands, if you exclude Kenny’s cousin, Kirsty Morag Jojoba MacLeod, who lives in a converted bothan in Upper Dibidale as a result of an unfortunate encounter with a Koala, two wallabies and later a duck-billed platypus during a visit to her Uncle Angie Alex “Crocodile” MacLeod in Edinburgh zoo.

Mr Angus and I were pleased to be able to break the news of Bo-Fib re-opening the yard ahead of the ridiculous embargo placed on it by HIE, as we had been so involved in the process of receiving calls from HIE to tell us what was happening. It is ludicrous that HIE seem so upset by our press statements, as Mr Angus has already designed the next technological leap for the towers that Bo-Fat have promised to built at Arnish out of spare tractor parts and creels, guaranteeing at least a generation’s employment for the entire island. And I have that on good authority from the MD of Butt-Fit when I told him about Mr Angus’ designs.

People: rejoice at Mr Alex, Mr Angus and I and our ability to deliver all these jobs, and remember that being a branch outlet for a big yard may mean that the employment is sporadic, but at least you are not selling your soul to the Labour Party and the Council by having constant employment building wind towers.