Well, well, well. Whatever next? In a week that has seen published lists of items claimed for by MP's more reminiscent of the conveyor belt on Bruce Forsythe's Generation Game than reasonable work-related expenses, (stone sink, patio set, barbecue, etc) there is something that most of us would have gladly provided - and I don't mean the deep fat-fryer or cuddly toy.
For goodness' sake, why didn't anyone treat Bob Quick, Metropolitan Police Assistant Commissioner, to a brief-case? Or maybe a plastic document holder? Or even a big brown envelope?
Whilst it's very worrying that such a senior officer in counter-terrorism would be so daft as to carry Top Secret documents in plain sight of journalists with long-range lenses, I'm not really sure if his resignation will do anyone any good or not. He obviously felt he had to go, and I suppose the least we can say about him is that having dropped such a monumental clanger, he's bitten the bullet and done the decent thing. I guess many of the MPs who are currently working their way through piles of expenses receipts with black marker pens this Easter weekend will be thankful to Mr Quick for getting their subsidised shopping lists off the front page for a few days. Having someone else held up to ridicule must come as a bit of a relief to them, and a very welcome change no doubt.
It's hard these days to watch the news and not have the feeling that the lid is about to pop off yet another can of worms, or several cans for that matter, with more revelations that embarrass and diminish us as a nation, which I find both infuriating and rather sad.
But anyway, enough already. See what happens when I try to get more politically aware? They all start to piss me off and then I'm forced to rant. I can't do anything about any of it so no more sniping from me. I'll just go back to reading the fashion pages of the newspapers, try to ignore the political bits and turn off the TV after Eastenders. All this intrigue is wearing me out.
I will now definitely be resting my case.
Unlike Mr. Quick of course, who sadly hasn't got one.