Byline: Julie McCaffrey
THIS election thingy is a pain, isn't it?
There's nothing more annoying than having a walk to Jenners interrupted by a crusty woman in culottes accosting you with coloured leaflets and stupid stickers.
The leaflets simply clutter up my handbag, and the dirty great stickers they thrust on my jacket can ruin the look of my entire outfit.
The election has brought to Edinburgh all the worst aspects of the Festival. Not least the freaky-looking people.
Did you see the election special in Tuesday's Evening News, where the candidates from all the parties were pictured?
Honestly, I laughed so much I was nearly sick.
The pictures of the women looked like the "before" ones from make-over features in women's magazines. Some should have been captioned: "She Devil".
Chanel Charm Necklace Although I do feel a teensy bit sorry for the frumpy old female candidates. Because can you imagine how dull it must be to have to wear your party colours all the time? Especially if you were a Lib Dem - yellow really doesn't do much for the Scottish complexion.
Anyway, the blokes weren't much better. One looked like a man-sized foetus and others had faces I could have sworn were bums if they hadn't had two eyes.
Many had upside-down faces - bald as a coot on top with bushy beards to compensate.
One bloke submitted a profile picture that made him look like a convict, and not far away smiled a Charles Bronson lookalike - the convict, not the film star.
Not one of them looked like someone I'd like to share a voddy with. And they were, Pandora Bracelet Charm all in all, a pretty unappealing bunch if you ask me.
Except Alistair Darling, of course. Isn't he the cutest thing? Just like a big cuddly koala with fluffy eyelashes that must cause a breeze when he blinks. I'm dying to ruffle that soft fluffy hair of his and pinch his cheek.
Henry McLeish is a nice man too. When I worked on a newspaper in Glenrothes, his constituency, he used to pop in for a cup of tea and a blether to escape the mad old women who used to chase him through the shopping centre to discuss wheelie bins.
Granted, he used to always ask me, the junior, to make him the tea, and I know previous junior reporters resented that. And I have to admit to sometimes stirring it with a leaky pen or an inky finger.
But that was just because I didn't have time to wash a spoon and not a personal or political slight.
Because Henry was a pretty entertaining guy. Especially that day he came in to show off his new publicity photographs. Puffed up with pride, he asked me: "Who do you think I look like in these pictures?" "Er, Henry McLeish?" I stammered.
"Yes, well. A lot of people thought I looked like Harrison Ford, actually."
That kept me laughing for a good few weeks.
And my colleagues and I were creased up at his tale of someone handing Kenneth Clarke's wife their coat and 50p at a posh function. Only I wasn't supposed to tell anyone that, oops! Sorry.
William Hague certainly couldn't impress or entertain like Henry. During a question-and-answer session with young people on Radio One the other night, a politically astute girl said:
Other articles:
http://www.snmsw.com/Blog/View/?3862
http://www.kubicarobert.com/blog/view/id_110/title_Woman-is-tricked/
...
