Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Don't F*** with J.R.

John Reid, who took over the Home Office portfolio from Charles Clarke less than a month ago, vowed last week, in the face of mounting criticism over scandals and allegations of incompetence in the troubled department, that he would “f***ing well work 18 hours a day” to sort out the mess.

He spent the bank holiday weekend in France.

Don’t get me wrong; I like Reid (as much as anyone can “like” a politician), he’s pugnacious, straight talking and witty – and he’s a fellow Scot.

His timing might have been slightly out; in both practical and PR terms, perhaps “this was not the moment for him to pick”, as a Liberal Democrat spokesperson opined.

But I can imagine what he would say (privately, if not for public consumption) if challenged:

“The trip gave me much-needed time and space to do the f***ing paperwork necessary to put plans into action that will send all this sh*t to bed.

“And, besides, I needed to spend some time with my wife: I haven’t seen her in f***ing months.

"To sum up: f*** off!"

Tony Blair was also on holiday (although he’s not due back quite yet), leaving the other “John” – a.k.a “two shags” – to manage the country in his absence.

The deputy PM, famous for his lack of an Oxbridge education, and his past as a union delegate, was photographed playing croquette, and drinking something that looked like Champaign, on the front lawn of his mansion, not two hours after his boss’s departure.

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