A Blunt Instrument and a Bad Temper

Monday...

The Home Secretary has been caught with her fingers in the sweetie jar, or so it seems. Apparently MPs are entitled to claim up to £24,000 a year to help them maintain a second home in London if their constituency home is too far away to commute to parliament. The Home Secretary has listed her main residence as her London home, which she is entitled to do, and her second home as the family home in Redditch. The main residence is defined as the one in which the MP, "spends more nights than any other". All sounds above board, except the address the cow registered as her main address is not hers. It's her sisters, and she claims she stays there usually Monday to Thursday.

Sounds to me like the old bat is trying to pull a fast one. She apparently crashes on her sister's couch three or four times a week and claims £24K a year to tart up the family gaff in Redditch. I'm fairly sure she's not paying her sister £2K a month for a room, and if she is, that's also a bloody scam anyway. You could get a pretty good hotel room in London for that. I hope she gets dragged up in front of the House and told to explain herself. This is the same cow that pays her husband £40K a year to work as her "parliamentary assistant".

MP's expenses are becoming ridiculous. They're supposed to be declaring everything and providing receipts, but they just seem to spend our public money like water and laugh at when we try to get an explanation. I think we should make them stay in youth hostels and only give them baked beans to eat.

I'm sick to death of snow. And the blasted weather forecast has been woeful incidentally. It peed down with snow on Friday and I didn't bother trying to get to work. Everything froze over the weekend and of course all the authorities ran out of salt for the roads, so we've all been driving on an ice rink. It's melting now, and it's been raining all day. I drove to work this morning. Apparently we can expect gale force winds and flooding tonight, and possibly more snow, or not, depending on which forecast you believe. You'd be better off with a crystal ball.

On the plus side, I've finished renovating the bathroom. Looks really good, very proud of myself. I really want to put a new tub in, but it's a lot of work and I haven't done it. I haven't told the dragon. It's going to be a surprise. This could all blow up in my face of course, if she doesn't like it, but I'm quietly confident.

I fly out to join my family on Friday. I can't wait. I've super missed them. I was thinking that some time on my own would be nice, but frankly, I've been lonely and miserable.

Tuesday...

I'm ridiculously busy at the office because I've taken on work that is currently being carried out by a guy in Paris who's about to retire. I've spent most of the last two weeks talking to him on the phone. Anyway. I have to get things straight before Friday because I go away, and when I come back, I have to take over. Slightly scared.

The papers have all got hold of the Jacqui Smith Expenses story and are taking the piss vigorously. Even the Guardian got in on the act. My favourite piece however was a comment in the Independent titled, "A Plague on Both Your Houses". Made me laugh anyway.

Oh yes, and I've just got home, it's about 8pm. I dropped in the supermarket on the way home, and then the diy store. There are two yard apes in fluorescent jump suits digging up the road right outside my bedroom window. We're talking diesel generator and pneumatic drill. They've got until 10pm. If it's not quiet by then, I'm going out there armed with a blunt instrument and a bad temper.