Hazel BlearsIn 1997 I received a phone call from Brentnall Primary School, my old school in Salford. Well, not the school, of course, but someone who worked there. (Ah! Now I understand synecdoche).

The school had to go. Too few pupils. Children, in Salford, were dwindling. But there were still pupils at the school and where were they to go? And why were they phoning me? They thought that my (at the time) ‘P’ list celebrity status (it’s much much lower now) might be able to somehow prevent the closure. I said, in the words of Jarvis Cocker, “I’ll see what I can do.”

I hadn’t a clue. The first thing I did was close my eyes and stand in a dark room, swinging my pants. I don’t know to this day if it was a bizzare attempt at some form of meditation, some kind of remote school-saving, or if it was just a nervous reaction; a panic act, a harmless alternative to nail biting or excessive masturbation.

After a bit of thought my head cleared. I was a professional idiot, not a politician; it’s their job to save schools. And so my plan started to form. I would contact Brentnall Primary School’s nearest politician and get them to save the damned place of education.

I’d never contacted a politician before. How do you do it? Well, they all put their phone numbers in the phone book! And so this is how I came to phone Hazel Blears at the Houses of Parliament.

I say phone Hazel Blears… I just phoned a number of an office and all I got was an answerphone. I left a message- I was phoning about my old school, don’t close it, leave it open... please… – that kind of thing.

An hour later my phone rang. It was HAZEL BLEARS! She phoned me up herself. A politician! I was so shocked. I’d never spoken to a politician before. What was I supposed to do? Bow? Over the phone? Or spit? I truly had no idea.

We talked a bit. She knew of the school, and of its plight, and she said, in the words of Jarvis Cocker, “I’ll see what I can do.”

She wrote to me. It was hardly 84 Charing Cross Road, but it meant a lot at the time. And the school stayed open. The system worked! The school was going to close, we contacted the local MP, she fought, the school won.

In time it was knocked down. But Brentnall Primary School still exists. It’s smaller now, in a smaller building yards from its original location. But that’s ok isn’t it? There are fewer children in Salford these days.

And this is why I’ll miss Hazel Blears if she has to go. She’s done a bad thing. But no worse than Hoon and Purnell it seems. Yet it looks like Gordon Brown will stick up for them whilst sticking it to old Hazel Nut.

So Hazel, I’m on your side (sort of). I’ll stick up for you (though you are very very bad and wrong). You see, I’m a sucker. She was there for me when I needed an MP. And I fancy her.

(picture thanks to The Daily Mail… hope that’s ok)

So says Michael Gove, the Shadow Education Secretary, but let’s just call him The Shadow. Watch him get angry here, courtesy of The Daily Telegraph. Things are coming to a pretty pass (whatever that means) when I start referring you to the Telegraph!

Did some of his furniture look like this?

elephant lamp 2Maybe. All we know for sure is that we bought him two elephant lamps for £134.50. That’s not a bad price for elephant lamps, though I could quite possibly pick on up in a pound shop in Peckham, for, well, around a pound? Overall though we got off lightly there and who are we to begrudge him the all-essential elephant lamp? Maybe he pushed his luck going for two, but then he does have two homes.

One elephant lamp in one home, another in the other. I wonder if he went for a matching pair? And if the elephants miss each other? He looks a kindly sort so I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. I don’t think he’d split up a pair. I guess his second elephant lamp looks a little like this.


Though that’s an elephant lamp that would look more at home in a child’s bedroom and as we all know, MP’s above others, children’s equipment is banned under Commons Rules. What? He claimed for a £34.99 foam cot mattress from Toys ‘R’ Us? I’m not sure what shocks me most. The fact that he dragged an innocent child into the scandal or that the Shadow Education Secretary frequents a store with a backwards ‘R’. God forbid he ever gets in charge of our schools. He’ll introduce a new key on our computers to type a backwards R. Then he’ll do the rest of the alphabet. Then he’ll have us playing our records backwards. And before you know it Satan will rule the Earth.

You’ll see in the video that he is understandably livid. “I wanted to be honest”, he states. But he doesn’t mention the elephant lamps.

I wonder if it was this one?


And why did he stop at elephant lamps? They’re not the only animal with the power of electricity surging through their trunks. Well, actually, they most probably are. I’m not sure what other animals have trunks (Oh yes! Tapirs! Tapir lamps!). But I’m disappointed that he didn’t go for a monkey lamp. What about the one below Michael? I haven’t a clue how much it costs but we’ll all happily club together and get you one. After all, we already have them. They’re what’s known as essential in our homes. I have good friends who have gone without heat, food and chimney sweeps just so they can have a monkey lamp. Here we see a monkey on top of two Jeffrey Archer novels, rolling a ball whilst dangling a lantern over his head with his tail. If your constituents don’t demand you get one immediately then they are idiots.

monkey lamp

Please watch him get angry and indignant. It’s very funny. Go on Michael! Get angry! Get indignant! It’s working. There’s no way you are making a fool of yourself.

michael gove

"I acknowledge that the whole system is rotten."


My house

In Magnolia little Stanley Spencer, the boy genius on “What do Kids Know?” who ends up wetting himself because the TV fools won’t let him have a toilet break, has an epiphany of sorts when at the end he says “Dad? You need to be nicer to me.” He’s right. And it got me thinking. We need to be nicer to our politicians. Because right now, well, they must all be pissing themselves with fear.

Let’s give them a break. What’s a bag of manure here or there?

And hey, we’ve all had to clean out our own moats. Admittedly, when an ordinary type of fellow like you or me cleans out their moat we rather unhappily  stump up the cash out of our own pockets. Some folk even think that that’s what our earnings are for- to spend. On our gardens, our moats, our late night bags of Iced Gems. And heck, if there was a rule that said that you, dear reader, had to pay for my little stick of Blackpool rock, then who would I be to complain. I’m a stickler for rules.

It is important to remember that no MP has broken the rules. They’re an honourable bunch. When one claims £598.85 for the upkeep of his ride-on lawnmower surely that’s reasonable. Yes, I know you can get a Flymo Hover mower at Argos for £27.99, but it’s not ride-on is it? And it would still cost £598.85 for upkeep. You can be sure of that.

the maximum claim for a TV is £750. One MP claimed £8,865. Maybe it’s a ride-on TV. They deserve nothing less.

£45 to remove two jackdaw’s nests? Sounds pretty reasonable. We all have problems with jackdaw nests.

Yes, Keith Vaz took some liberties buying 24 cushions. But at least he had the dignity to withhold a claim for Anusol.

The cushion thing got to me a bit. The rules do need addressing for sure. How about a 10 cushion limit. And no cushion costing more than a fiver. Keith’s averaged £20 a cushion. And of course these were the cushions classed as essentials. Any more, for, say, comfort, I’m sure he paid for out of his own pocket. He must live in a cushion palace. Even when standing he must have a cushion shoved up his arse. Well done Keith Vaz, for being the most plumped up MP.

The upkeep of a home is a costly thing. When you’ve two or three or a hundred, how the hell are you supposed to maintain them on £64,766 a year? Our MP’s must be on lower salaries than nurses. I pity them, and I for one am all in favour of them being paid £766,453.72 a month.

My place, pictured above, sets me back a bob or two. That’s me, in the white suit and white hat (dry cleaning bills, £14,874 a week). To the left you can see Chauncy, my gardener and also my uncle. I pay him £1.24 an hour. It soon mounts up. He does work a 27 hour day. Up at the top window is Dave, my looker and also my pet. I pay him £400 a week to stand on balconies, looking outwards. It saves me having to do it.


Me, Maude and Steve

Here I am heading off on my holidays. Unlike MP’s I get to have holidays. I tend to take 5 eight day holidays fourteen times a month for seventeen months of the year with Maude the blonde haired hooker and Steve the rent boy, also known as my sister and my son. I pay them well. They have other jobs too. Maude knits Rememberance Day wreaths out of mouse traps and Steve wees household cleaning products out of his willy which he sells for £20 a pop.



And finally, my accountant Pete (no relation) off to the bank with a big bag of swag and a knife to stab himself in the eyes. I pay him to do that. Out of my own money. Legally collected from the serfs in my little fiefdom.

So let’s give our MP’s a break. Let’s be nicer to them. We need to be. After all, without them all of our chimney sweeps would be out of a job.

Thanks to the Daily Mirror for expense statistics.