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, September 14, 2009

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.

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.