Thursday morning April 19th

Bread and bloody cheese again for breakfast. The 'Blair flu' seems to have abated? I read the Michael Cowan files. Apparently he did national service and rose to become "Corporal Cowan".Blimey, just like Adolf, this man is more dangerous than I thought.! I read on, in 1973 he was fined £20.00 "for driving a car along a bus lane in the city centre". I feel deflated, this ain't Tatton and Neil Hamilton with brown envelopes stuffed with cash. Those heady days are over mate, your political muck-raking career has hit the pits in this Thatcherite property owning paradise.

The post arrives, it's some junk mail from Littlewoods, offering me a free set of dining plates or something. Seeing as my gas ovens been out of order for months, they won't be much use will they, you bloody capitalist morons. I rip up the "offer" and sling it in the fireplace.

I must do some campaigning, I've only got one vote so far and he's a bloody nutter. Another fiasco like Sherwood (36 votes 2003) and I'll be demoted even further. The Shadow Spokesman on Sport, probably. What a ghastly thought. These days if anybody scores a goal, you'd think they'd won the Battle of Waterloo, the melodramatic over-paid fools.

I go to Wollaton and do some leafleting. "Don't push a leaflet through that letterbox" shouts an old bloke, "He's dead". "Thank you very much" I say. He looks at my rosette "We're the Elvis Party" I inform him. "So" he sniffs. They're a bunch of arrogant sods in this place. Just because they live in big posh houses and I rot in a terraced one, they think they can talk to me just how they like. Vote for "Soft Dick" see if I care, I'd rather be a councillor in Top "Yerself " Vallley, thankyou!

I leaflet the Old Coach Road. A woman refuses to take one, “I'm not into politics, I'm waiting for God's Kingdom to arrive”. Lawdy Miss Clawdy, a religious nutter, that's all I need, our Party's bad enough. “Well he won't pay your Council Tax. Why don't you vote for me while your waiting.” She looks at me with pity and gives me a pamphlet 'Will this World Survive?'. Well I won't if I don't get out of Corporal Cowan's Kingdom sharpish, I call it a day and head for home.