Hooray. Happy New Year. We've made it to the Teens. Sadly, as any parent will know, the teen years are probably the trickiest that anyone goes through, what with raging hormones, dodgy relationships and a dangerous excess of bacchanalian activity.
I'm obviously not implying that this will in any way mirror the activities of the ever-more-likely Cameron government, but it probably does. I've been having a think about life under Cameron and just want to throw out a couple of scenarios to muse upon before the coronation.
First, Cameron will soon have to assemble that most important of groups, the showbiz supporters. In the past, Tory showbiz supporters – among them Jim Davidson – have always been a pretty motley crew. The nearest the Tories ever got to hip was the boy band Busted, who immediately broke up and disappeared off the face of the Earth.
No, Cameron needs to get a far hipper group together. Right now he is surely wooing Lily Allen, Simon Cowell and the little man from Top Gear. Once his posse is assembled they will need an acronym. Can I suggest FOC (Friends of Cameron)? They would thus be known as a bunch of FOCers.
I'm going to be very interested in which celebs will do the usual and announce that they will be leaving the country should Cameron win. This always happens and then nothing is ever done to ensure that they follow through on their promise.
My solution is that Cameron should be magnanimous and adopt a US system of appointing ambassadors. He could then "reward" these critics with important posts as ambassador to such hot spots as Uzbekistan, Togo and North Korea. I for one would love to see Ben Elton exiled to Pyongyang for an extended stay. The only problem is that he would probably return with a smash-hit musical based on the life of Kim Jong-il (working title "So Fucking Wonely").
Cameron must also realise that the major threat to his administration will not be from an in-fighting Labour Party in which the two "Funky Brothers" – DJ Ed and MC Dave Miliband – are waging a protracted battle for control of the "decks". No, he must turn his attention to the elephant in the mayoral room – Bumbling Boris, surely the most extraordinary potential prime minister in UK history. Boris is like Sarah Palin with brains. No matter what your political allegiance, you can't help but like him and secretly want him to come to power because, whatever happens, it's going to be entertaining.
Cameron's only hope of keeping Boris at bay is to offer him a top but deeply dull job to keep him busily "in the tent". I would suggest that he gives him the perpetual minefield that is Welsh Secretary and simply step back and watch Boris put his foot in it time after time until he is eventually chased through the streets of Cardiff by a baying mob holding flaming crosses.
Sam Cam, the future First Lady, will also have to assemble a little coterie of advisers and stylish friends. If she really wants to make a mark then she should pal up to Lady GaGa and steal her stylist. Just imagine the scene at the door of No 10 as the Camerons move in. Dave, in his well-thought-out "ordinary man" look of chinos and open shirt standing next to Sam sporting a leather nurse's outfit underneath a portable shower unit.
Dave could do worse than to take me on as a consultant. Who knows, if things go well I could end up as Minister for the Cotwolds. There would be a couple of things changed pretty sharpish, I can tell you – the first being to lift the ban on hunting, traffic wardens and Liz Hurley.
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