* Bitter News. And heres the ultimate from The Marquis of Granby, Westminster, a Nicholsons residence where punters select their pint of London Pride from pumps dedicated to the opposite parties: Lib Dem: 38 per cent; Conservatives: 34%; Labour: twenty-eight per cent. Well, well. Lets see if it creates any disproportion when I exhibit that Vince Cable is, wait for for it, a lager drinker.
* Doings of the Jeunesse Doree. Zac Goldsmith, son of Sir James and Tory claimant for Richmond Park, continues to show his late dads contempt for the correct form, vowing to renounce as MP if his promise, inter alia, to safety the very old right of motorists to play ground for free in Richmond Park is broken. My match headlines this "Barmy Rich Boy Threatens To Quit Before Hes Elected". Tomorrow: Professor The Honourable Tristram Hunt, worldly Labour claimant for Stoke Central.
* Thought for the Day With William Eric Jones. William is the 10-year-old whose christening benefaction from a family crony was a �10 gamble at 25,000-1 with William Hill that he will turn Prime Minister. So far, William, from Plymouth, is veering towards Cameron. Hes unequivocally listened of Nick Clegg, "but I dont think the Liberal Democrats will do it". Hes listened of Vince Cable, too, but, similar to most others, is uncertain of his expect position. What would he do as Prime Minister? "I"d similar to to reduce tax, but thats probably not possible, given the income has got to come from somewhere." Labour? "They"ve had a lot of years given I was born, essentially but I only think they havent unequivocally finished most good, and they took us in to the war." Hill"s: I"d lay this one off now.
Tomorrow: Williams outcome on the TV discuss and only what he will do with all that money.
* Thought For The Day With Lord Mandelson: "It was a sort of Mandy dance it defies categorisation, similar to the man himself." Thus his Lordship after that unpretentious turn turn the Blackpool Tower dance hall with a 67-year-old woman who incited out to be a conviction healer from Huddersfield. Did you know that Sigmund Freud visited Blackpool as a immature man, twice? He was so tender with the Tower that he sent a postcard of it. His Lordship, for his part, presented passers-by with his own special small Labour hang of Blackpool Rock.
* Straws Poll. Jack and his soap box are still relocating at pace, punctuated by extensive halts whilst he talks on it. Yesterday it was Leicester, where Jack confided to his audience, re the Leader: "I know him [which is good]... We have mostly pronounced Gordon Brown needs to chill out a bit, but I"m an extrovert and I feel at ease going in to a room and articulate to people." Right. I read, too, that Jack is never but his own powder smoke for present focus should a movie organisation discord in to view. A erotically appealing character, who will be done nonetheless some-more so by the confront with an ice-cream outpost that I have betrothed to discuss it you about prior to you confirm on your vote.
* These electoral records yield an oasis of reflection, a chaise longue of loose rumination. Thats because I"m forsaking the high fad of last nights televised discuss to combine on critical events elsewhere. Tomorrow will be when you get my disdainful outcome on the leaders" suiting from Savile Row, and, for balance, TK Maxx (if I can bind the deal). Next!
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