Old Etonians' hissy fit - shit happens

Apparently the mutual masturbation at the Spectator's annual "Parliamentarian of the Year" awards went with a bang - umm - maybe a splash? Anyway, amid all the circle-jerking it seems our little prime minister wanted to remind the biggest Johnson present who's the boss. Fraser Nelson reports him saying:

I think the great thing about the Spectator is your extraordinary heritage, the remarkable figures who’ve sat in the editor’s chair. I’m thinking of people like Iain Macleod, Nigel Lawson and obviously not forgetting my own particular favourite. We went to the same school, the same university and of course I’ve got a soft spot for him. A man of high intelligence and huge ambition. An irresistible charmer with an enviable head of hair. Always bursting with brilliant turns of phrase and bright ideas. Yes, my kind of political maverick . . . Ian Gilmour. I’m not quite sure what went wrong for Ian. I suppose he rubbed the Prime Minister up the wrong way and never really recovered. Shit happens. Anyway, there’s always the chance of becoming our ambassador in Pristina I suppose.

Ian who? Looked him up - he was one of the Heath shower, wetter than wet on every issue, and a Scots baronet to boot. Sacked as Lord Privy (sic) Seal in 1981, he declared that Thatcher's government was "steering full speed ahead for the rocks", and said he regretted not having resigned before he was pushed. Thereafter, like his hero Heath, he sulked until fellow wet John Major made him a life peer in 1992.

Plus, Pristina is the capital of Kosovo and Cameron's closing quip, quite apart from being gratuitously insulting, reveals that he is unaware of what a demanding diplomatic post it is right now.  

So, wee Cameron dropped his pants again to reveal not only how very small they are, but whence they came.