So there I am, sitting on a southbound Northern line train, dressed in black and white, my one rebellion against monochrome a pair of cufflinks in a variety of pinks and purples, on my way to a dinner party. At least I am coloured co-ordinated with the line I'm travelling on...
I admit that it isn't a particularly intimate dinner party, although I have no idea who the hosts are, and the list of sponsors is fairly spectacular. I do know what the occasion is - we're celebrating the onset of the Year of the Ox - so am guessing that there is a Chinese element.
So, why am I going? Good question, my friend. Apparently, our glorious Leader, a.k.a. the Cleggster, is in the South West this evening, and in his absence, our Imperial Sereneness, the Party President, is standing in. I'm tagging along. And yes, you guessed it, two blokes called Gordon Brown and David Cameron are turning up as well. I wonder if their skills at small talk are any good...
I'll tell you about it afterwards, assuming that there is an afterwards, that is...
Cthulhu! you poor bugger.
ReplyDeleteDoes Cameron the oily nerk make squelching noises when he moves from all the grease?
[/bitchiness]