After his debacle regarding the Over 70’s you might have thought a bit of low profile and humility would be in order. Not a bit of it. Unfortunately he was allowed to perform in Parliament answering questions. In doing this he managed to lose his cool and be rude to the questioner.

Now it must be irritating to be asked loaded questions by showboating MP’s and to have emotive and not very constructive soundbites like “People are dying” thrown at you in a provocative manner. The questioner is quite keen on projecting herself, not always with total success, perhaps confirmed by the fact that the members of her party firmly rejected her when she put up for the post of Deputy Leader of the Party recently.

However she is a doctor who has in her spare time gone back to working shifts in her local hospital to help out and irritating or not that does give her quite a bit of moral high ground. Quite simply if you have any political sense, the wrong person to lose your temper with.

Perhaps even more to the point, as a Government Minister it is your job to answer questions, be they good, awkward, stupid, self centred or just nonsense. It goes with the job.

Most importantly however is his utter lack of professionalism. It should have been obvious, even to a half wit, the issues that would be raised. So come prepared with a stream of facts and figures and deliver them in a firm but dignified manner. The man had learnt nothing from his disaster of the day before. Unfortunately (or fortunately for Hancock himself) he was partially save by;

THE ENTITLED ONE

By which I mean Professor Ferguson, the man who advised the Government to impose the lockdown, went on television to stress it and then broke his own rules, because he is far too important a man to actually obey the rules. Yet another member of the entitled bunch who consider themselves way above the “great unwashed”. And of course it was just an “error of judgement” rather than the unforgivable piece of arrogance that it actually was.

Lets be quite clear about it. Apart from the morals of getting involved with someone married to somebody else who has two children who must be lest than thrilled to see this plastered all over the front pages, the reality is this. The gallant professor phones up his lady love who travels across London potentially spreading the virus on her way as her husband is a suspect to have caught the virus. They then engage in their daily exercise in the form of a lengthy session of horizontal jogging after which she returns home having another go at spreading the virus. Better still, they were obviously a bit out of condition, so a few days later he summons her back for some more athletic endeavours! And his justification – he had already had the virus so that made everything right. Do as I say not what I do – I am way above you peasants. The only good thing is he has gone. And on a very personal note I discover that this despicable creature resided in the local village in his younger days.

Which brings me to the MOST ENTITLED ONE namely the useless ornament of this establishment – the cat. Having failed to do the decent thing the cat had eaten through all the supplies of his special food that he has been prescribed so today I had to authorise the purchase, at great expense of a further large consignment. Then still reeling from that financial shock his special medicine had run out so the morning was spent as follows. 1 Ring the vets to try to order a supply. 2, Receive a message to bring him in for further tests. 3. Ring back to say that he does not need tests (I know the vets must be feeling the pinch in lack of work but I am not bailing then out of their financial difficulties). 4 Pay by card over the phone another large bill for the medicine. 5. Negotiate that I must drive to the vets back door, park up, check there is nobody in sight, make a dash for the box outside the back door and extract the package with the cat’s name on it, dash back the to car and drive away before I can infect anyone. So I got out the car and drove stealthily to the vets trying to avoid the road blocks set up by the local finest constabulary “Is this a vital journey? Should be out at all at your age? Is this your only excursion out of the house today?” Well round here there is not much else for them to do. Success – I made it to the vets secured the package and made it home, although I did hear sirens in the background. Emotionally and financially drained I partially recovered until disaster struck –

The wine order has failed to arrive. So tomorrow VE day I may be reduced to drinking one of the three remaining bottles of very valuable1985 Vintage claret to celebrate the event. Watch this space.