Crack! Bit of a turn-up: Vince Cable in shooting incident! Well, all right, when he was about 10, with an air-rifle, with a friend, neighbours' windows for the holing of, taken down the station, ticked off. But these Lib Dem youthful indiscretion recollections are always of interest (N Clegg, according to account, either torched most of Europe's cactus stock or singed a few leaves in a German greenhouse). We now await the friend's version, and, in particular, whether Vince had been warning him for some time of this disastrous outcome. Next!
You decide. Which would be better for David Cameron: Margaret Thatcher's approval, or Margaret Thatcher's disapproval? Sorry, have to hurry you: she thinks he's too young, says her former PR man, Tim "Tinker" Bell, now Lord Bell. And boring. And out of touch. And more: Bell is also reported as saying: "After trying to watch the first debate Maggie said, 'They irritate me'. She is particularly angered by the way all three do their utmost not to answer questions." Indeed. Remind me, large Argentine boat, General Somebody or Other, direction of travel. Next!
An hour is a longer time in politics. A BBC dispatch timed at 12.59 yesterday reported that the Prime Minister, out campaigning, had gone into a house numbered 13 in a road in Herne Hill, south London. Well: how brave is this man? The minutes ticked by, and ticked by, surpassing even Duffy Time. Imagine my relief, then, when the news flashed up at 14.01 pm that he had moved on and had just been handed some homemade cookies. How much more?
Watch this space
You Decide (2). Some might feel this quote from David Cameron is conclusive: "I love Friends but I never got into Seinfeld."
Who's a pretty pol?
Squawk! Arrr! More parrots! You remember Charlie, the Labour-supporting parrot active in Bassetlaw, Notts: well, now comes news of Archie, from Bedworth, Warwicks! He's just had a visit from Gordon Brown, and can reel off Rabbie Burns, including, I trust, "Dare to be honest and fear no labour"; "My love is like a red, red rose"; and, of course, the great man's warning on hung parliaments, "Suspense is worse than disappointment". Next, Chris Young, the Lib Dem candidate in Glasgow Central, has a ventriloquist act which features a parrot dummy called Ferdinando. What's wrong with a good old British name? And where are the Tory parrots? Note: To test a ventriloquist's skill, try them with this, used by the late, great Ken Campbell: "Who dared to put wet fruit-bat poo in our dead mummy's bed; was that you, Verity?" Don't mention it.