Pandora: Boulton wanderer? Sky remains the limit

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As regular readers of this column will be aware, there has been genuine concern that earnest Westminster bulldog Adam Boulton has been working too hard.

Just minutes after his unusually emotional clash with Alastair Campbell this week, there was even growing talk of "sleep deprivation" and "could this be one for the Geneva Convention?" in certain quarters. Being the type who has never revelled in seeing our national treasures suffer such very public indignities, I felt it was only right to inquire when Mr B – (trust me, he loves it when you call him that) – was going to finally don the sombrero and take a well-earned holiday!

While moved by my concern, the man himself was at pains to assure me he wouldn't be troubling easyJet for some time to come. "New government and Labour leadership contest," he emailed. "So no holiday for me until August when my first date is helping my father to clear out 85 years of paperwork. Dull – know. Sorry x." Round two, Alastair!

Tarzan goes wild in Westminster

It briefly seemed a curious decision by BBC producers when what appeared to be an elderly tramp arrived on screen claiming, somewhat dubiously, to know David Cameron personally. Only on closer inspection, and with some understandable alarm, did viewers realise it was in fact a decidedly windswept Lord Heseltine, whose famously elaborate mane appeared to be in all kinds of trouble.

* I'm assured you misquote modest food critic Michael Winner at your peril. That said, who needs to bother when the old boy continues to boast such moving anecdotal gems as this? "Burt Lancaster tried to kill me three times," he cheerfully reveals. "He was a dear friend, but he grabbed me by the throat and tried to kill me. He only did that to people he loved, though – so I took it as a compliment."

* As david Cameron and Nick Clegg were getting used to holding hands in the Downing Street garden yesterday, followers of The Daily Telegraph wondered whether their favourite read was offering some symbolic support. A timely printing hitch ensured that thousands of copies of the Torygraph had a large splodge of Lib Dem yellow splattered across the front page.

Theresa's crisps a cause for concern?

Theresa May's appointment as Home Secretary may have been quietly welcomed by what I'm assured is an army of veteran male admirers across the Home Counties, but others were proving more dubious yesterday. No sooner had her appointment been confirmed than some in the media started expressing doubts she was ruthless enough for Westminster's most thankless of posts. "I can't take Theresa seriously since she offered me one of her Quavers," muttered one ungrateful television hack.