David and Nicholas

Columbine and Harlequin in the Palace of dreams.

More like two frisky colts in a stable of muck.

And so it goes on.
The actor's scripts may change, but they're all dressed in the same sickly garb.

The election for a new Labour party leader will be grist for my blogging mill.

A mix of old and young darlings will be up for the job. But only one gal. The ever present Harriet Harman. I can't remember a time when she wasn't in my face. I even know that she likes a Cottage loaf stuffed with minced meat, old family recipe apparently. I know this because it turned up in a book about famous people and what they like to eat! Famous!
Ms Harman is famous for being married to Jack Dromy. And for being around a long time and for being a woman and not for anything else. Although bitching out of the way, she did do well as a stand in for the late Mr Brown at PMQ's. But leadership/Prime Ministerial material? No.
I can't see a lady whose married to a Union man and who comes from a posh background and who enjoys a nice meat and bread pie ever jiggling the keys to Number 10.
But then again...

I just saw Mr Clegg aka Columbine waving a limp wrist outside the aforementioned Number 10.
His manner was one of disbelief. Yes Cleggy, you rotten turncoat, you've wriggled your way into a decent little job and there you are arm in arm with the Boy Wonder. AND YOU CAN'T BELIEVE IT!
Well neither can the rest of the country matey.

The struggle for the Labour leadership will be fought between clean boys...The Milliband Brothers, Ed Balls and, if they decide they want to dirty it up, Mr Jon Cruddas.

Meanwhile a broken but dignified man leaves for the hills. I think that the history books will paint a kinder picture of Gordon Brown.

Now I have to get to work on my floor.

Ta ta!