Save Dave takes to the streets of Manchester

Well, I would if I didn't have an awful lot to do here, and Manchester wasn't quite so, well, like Manchester. In my experience there's only one place to go should you decide to go significantly northwards and that it bonnie Scotland.

What does one, for example, wear to Manchester? I don't think I have the right pair of shoes for the situation, and I have an awful lot of shoes.

But I digress: my reason for even considering getting on a train to such a city is because I think that my love needs me.



People who SHOULD KNOW BETTER have started attacking him again saying that he's a liar.

Well, even if he is he's been put in simply the most terrible situation, the poor darling.

The foreign secretary, who has been at the centre of leadership rumours, said the BBC "should know better".

He paid tribute to Mr Brown in his speech but aides were heard telling him it was being given "six out of ten".

A BBC journalist heard him reply: "I couldn't have gone any further. It would have been a Heseltine moment."

I can't even imagine he would need to challenge that monstrous meany for the job of leading the Labour party. Oh, and the country. For the time being at least. Quite frankly, Gordon should only need one glance at his boyish grin, his soft hair (it is always soft in my dreams when I run my fingers through it) and the fact that he is as clever as a chap with three heads to see that he should offer him the reins on a red velvet cushion with diamante accessories.

But say that he did say that, which if he says he didn't then he certainly didn't: who can blame him. The poor duckling is stuck between a rock and a hard place (and breathe) and every time he turns around there are menopausal women running after him, desperate to get into his shorts trousers.

So come on, chaps. Lay off the more wee mite or you'll have an angry Trixy to contend with. And I bite.