On the General Election
It's election time again, and my esteemed employers remind me that I should remain strictly neutral on matters political in the run up to the 6th May snooze-fest. And strictly neutral I shall remain, showing neither favour nor opposition toward any declared candidate.
However, living as I do in a key marginal seat – a straight fight between a cabinet minister who my charming wife once accidentally insulted, and a man with a quadruple-barrelled surname whose grandfather once tried to destroy humanity using nerve gas, stolen space shuttles and a secret space station, thwarted only by Roger Moore's left eyebrow – I fully expect my doorbell to be rung into oblivion by visiting ministers and their opposition shadows vying for my vote.
And like the 2005 poll, I shall be inviting them in for a nice cup of tea, locking them in the cupboard under the stairs, and see how long they'll last before resorting to cannibalism.
To be perfectly honest, my record from 2005 isn't going to be that hard to beat – I only managed to nab Tessa Jowell, who seemed to rather enjoy her incarceration, using her experience as Culture Minister to put my DVD collection into alphabetical order, and seemed quite sad to have to go back to the real world.
"Greetings, fellow indigenous British citizen, I represent the British Nationa..."
That's a start.