Boris, Boris, Boris. You do have a silver lining. All my pals who live in London (that's actual London, not these angry suburbs we hear about) are mentally packing their bags to come back to Scotland. I'm looking forward to seeing a bit more of them.
Londoners shouldn't worry, though.
I'm sure David Cameron's got a remote control device around some sensitive parts of Boris, and given him strict instructions to do nothing at all so as not to scare the rest of the country. It's the whole of England that needs to worry, I reckon.
But Salmond's offer to cooperate is a mistake, I think. It makes the Nats look like they're pleased to see the Tories come back down south (which of course they are), but it's such a cynical position. A simple private phone call would have been enough, advising Boris to keep out of Scotland if he knows what's good for him.
Oh, and we didn't pick up any more seats on the Assembly, despite being just 2.9% behind the Liberals. Bah. I can't even be pleased that their dire campaign, failing to make a recommendation on the final round, cost them two seats (although the three missing members are still listed on the London Assembly Liberal website), because one of those seats went to the BNP's homoerotic film director. Who will vote as a Tory, effectively, in a futile effort to neutralise his own hatefulness. London, London, I feel your pain.
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