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, October 12, 2009

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.

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.