There is something delightfully immoral about Eric Pickles, not in the carnal sense but in who and what he is. In the real world Eric Pickles simply could not happen but here in la la land. Eric Pickles is the Tory Chairman, M.P., and General Election campaign cheerleader.
I say Pickles could not exist because this is the day of the airbrushed politician, airbrushed to perfection (or oblivion depending on your point of view!) Pickles will admit that he is critically overweight but jolly, a Bunter figure writ large.
But to give him credit he fought and won his seat and is now fighting again. His northern vowels come over as fresh but not impressive, concerned but not overbearing, He also has perfectly manicured nails unlike the serial nail biter and dangerously stressed out [James] George Brown.
So perhaps Pickles is the ideal role model for sofa bound Britons? At 5am this morning (Pickles or one of his robots) tweeted that so many million leaflets were distributed at railway stations and at the doorstep,(don't you just hate people who call them 'train' stations? ) But as Eric faces a full month of going on the stump we could see a slimmed down version of the man trying to get out. No more in the Palace of Westminster will you hear the pint-sized Speaker bark out:"Order, Order, Who Ate All The Pies?" Pickles will have probably eaten him and well before breakfast.
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