Tory grandees apoplectic at discreet revelations in wife of the former Foreign Minister’s diary are complaining the embarrassing tittle-tattle doesn’t go far enough in documenting their eye-wateringly insensitive excesses.
An anonymous pink-trousered ex-minister brayed; “She’s made us sound like council estate scum. When she wrote about the 2015 cabinet sharing a bubble-filled Jacuzzi with mostly compliant interns, she never mentioned everyone was tits-deep in Krug Brut Vintage ’85. The proles might think it was only Dom Pérignon, or Lambrini.
“Her account of our Marchioness-themed fancy dress party never mentioned the £10,000 RSVP required. No, of course it wasn’t for charity, just to ensure the chaps brought enough loose change to bet on the results of the ‘sink or swim’ party games.”
Asked if they were offended at depictions of the political elite as coarse, privileged, horny yet sexually inadequate out-of-touch toffs, they harrumphed approvingly, “No, have to hand it to the filly there, she got it bang on with C*nty Cameron, Onanism Osborne, Fisty Fallon, and well, me and most of the old gang.
A bone of contention, so to speak, concerns the size of Michael Gove’s dishonourable member, dubbed ‘the uncivil serviceable slinky’. “Oh, it’s not all that. As several unfortunate whey-faced Commons’ researchers know, somewhere on a Whitehall door frame is a rather more priapic version of recording your children’s height- all very quaint, really.
“And let’s face it, it’s not the only slithery, slimy snake- trouser or otherwise- nestling snugly in the party.”