My So-Called Life: Is anyone thinking what I'm thinking?

Tuesday 29 March 2005 18:00 EST

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Yes, I accept it has been a bad week for my party, the Crouch End Peoples' Party, but it is not the PR disaster most are saying it is, and it does not mean we are useless and unelectable and rubbish and a laughing stock. OK, I had to sack the party's deputy chairman, which was extremely unpleasant, but as you will understand, I could not afford to keep on someone who misrepresented my plans by so scandalously telling the truth not just in the run-up to an election, but generally. As such, there was every chance that he might tell the truth again. This would fatally undermine the party, implying a "hidden agenda" that could be anywhere, as we're always losing things in this house and once even found a cat skeleton up the chimney as well as a complete baby on top of the wardrobe. I always wondered where I'd put it.

As I have said in previous CEPP bulletins, I ultimately had to appoint my partner as deputy, as he appeared to be the right person for the job in the absence of any other candidates. He initially took to the role with enthusiasm, or would have if I could have shifted him off the sofa. He was especially reluctant to leaflet, even though I wrote him a lovely one in my best writing. It said: "Window cleaner available. Reasonable rates. Own bucket." He refused to deliver it even though, in the spirit of political compromise, I later added: "Not available on Test Match days or when the rugby is on. Bucket on small side but leak-proof." I can see, now, that he lacks get up and go. Or even just the "get up". The "go" would be a bonus.

Still, it was unfortunate that his remarks, made privately to our cleaner who had asked him to lift his legs so she could Hoover, were taped by a yet unknown mole, although I bet it's the one who lives down the garden and makes those unsightly mounds. A sly little fellow, he is, and I've always said so. He has tiny eyes and a spiteful, pointy snout. I've always wanted to bash him over the head with a spade, but could never find one. Anyway, my partner said that if I was voted into power, I would take a firm line on moles, but almost certainly not beat the shit out of travellers or even poison their smelly dogs, as proposed in the CEPP leaflet: Beating Travellers And Poisoning Their Smelly Dogs. Window Cleaner Still Available. Instead, he said I would probably go on as usual, lying in bed and watching soaps and eating cheese while not bashing Gypsies and immigrants and asylum-seekers and all the other easy targets that are said to whip middle England into a state, but never the edges or the pointy bit at the bottom. It only ever appears to affect Nottinghamshire, for some reason.

Alas, the remark was reprinted in full in The Hornsey Journal, whose front-page stories have been somewhat weak of late - "Woman dies, 81" was a recent scoop. I was, of course, outraged, as it implied that what I say in public has nothing to do with what I think in private, and that is a terrible thing to say about anyone even when it's 100 per cent spot on. I am currently trying to de-select my partner from the settee but it's not easy, as he is hanging on for dear life and is quite strong and when he shouts at me I get frightened and forget to nag him about becoming a window cleaner. Still, I must be seen to be tough and in control, which is why I pull his hair a bit every time I go past. I am building up to a pinch. I have since advertised for a new deputy chairman offering car, BUPA and a look at the secret agenda, if it ever turns up. All lies, of course, but what isn't in this game? Meanwhile, to get the party back on track and even strengthen our position, I am about to launch a billboard campaign featuring the following slogans as devised by myself after doing no research among potential voters, because that would be tiresome:

It's not racist to impose a special tax on people who are black through no fault of their own, but all the same.