Nelson Galaxy

I am now being pestered and pursued by an altogether different George. This one is of the Galloway variety. The Scottish politician, author and celebrity fool has been following me around London. He currently represents the Respect party for the Bethnal Green and Bow constituency, my constituency. I must admit that I did not vote for him.

He has been travelling around London in an open-topped bus, campaigning for Respect in the upcoming London mayoral elections. I have seen the campaign party passing by my flat in Stepney on numerous occasions.

As the bus stops at the traffic lights outside my window Galloway can see directly into my flat. On occasion our eyes have met. As he looks at me with his cold dead eyes I cannot help pulling a face at him, with added hand gestures. Next time I may have a sniper rifle, that’ll teach him to pretend to be a cat. Weirdo.

The Galloway canvassing campaign bus followed me most of the way home last night. It started in the City and carried on all the way to Stepney. I was continually five paces ahead, like a dedicated procession leader.

Galloway was at the very front of the top deck on the party bus. He had a microphone and was spouting some rhetoric or other. Nobody could hear anything he was saying because there was excruciating disco music pumping out of a PA. The City workers I was trying to avoid found the sight rather amusing.

It is not everyday you are followed home by a political disco bus.

Galloway had chosen to wear the same green leotard he wore on Celebrity Big Brother. There were giant balloons on the bus and a big bubble making machine, so I was constantly being showered with fairy-liquid smelling balls. Galloway was flanked by two partially clad big bosomed blonde women, who were gyrating to the sounds of the Otis Redding/Aretha Franklin song Respect (see what they did there?).

If all of this does not deserve respect George, then I do not know what does.