Since apparently everyone else has been at it for years, we thought we’d better get in on the act and start hacking into peoples’ privacy. Our investigator, Glen Dontcaire, has been hard at work and last night intercepted the email below.
In order to protect their anonymity, we have redacted the email addresses of both sender and recipient
Tuesday 25 January 2011, 11.51.48
Hello Rebekah, my favourite constituent!
Mustn’t forget or Sam will kill me. She says can your chef tell our chef how he made the wonderful caviar, truffle and champagne lobster we had at yours at Christmas. Thing is we’ve got a bunch of trade unionists coming to No 10 for dinner next week. Ordering in doner kebabs for them again from that dodgy place off Tottenham Court Road, but Sam and I fancy a lobster snackette once they’ve gone – the sort that eradicates the memory of a bunch of bolshie, northern gits belching and burping in one’s dining room.
Loving the Picasso Chrissie gift from you all. The brilliant thing about you lot being personal pals is that I don’t have to declare your presents. Sorry we couldn’t reciprocate in kind, although we’re bloody wealthy, but hope you and all the marvellous Murdochs appreciated my pledge of total support for News Corp, signed in my own, and Nick and Jeremy’s, blood.
And thanks again for the fab evening. Still laugh at the memory of James putting on his Vince voice and Sam and you pretending to be the Telegraph babes entrapping him. What a stroke of luck that entrapment was. Vince and his conscience have been consigned to history and Jeremy, your number one fan, is doing everything he can to give you what you want and squash the BBC into the size of Radio Caroline. And, in return, you give us what we want by keeping us in power for years and years. So glad you stopped having that arrangement with that loser, Brown.
Main reason for email is to ask if you could recommend anyone to take over from the comms job from poor old Andy Pandy. You know the type we’re looking for – not too bothered about the poor, schools, students, the NHS, bankers’ bonuses and that sort of thing. Council estate background wouldn’t go amiss again. Always helps to have someone around who knows what it’s like not to be filthy rich. Mind you, I don’t want a real oik (no offence to your good self) because I can’t understand their accents. (Tried watching EastEnders once – to put myself in touch with the lower classes – but their vowels were so obscure, I had to press the subtitle button.) Most important of all, please recommend someone who you and Rupert love to bits and who you can truly rely on to serve your interests from No 10. After all, they will be working for you.
I shall miss Andy, of course, but Rupert said I should get shot of him because he was queering the pitch over BSkyB, which I know is awfully important to him. After all, once Rupert takes it over, he takes over the whole country, just like he’s taking over America. Clever how Jeremy’s managed to delay putting the bid to the Competition Commission. That should give Rupert time to hive off Sky News into some quasi separate sort of thing that he can pretend he’s got nothing to do with. When the time’s right, of course, he can simply reclaim Sky News and turn it into a highly profitable commercial venture like that Fox News thingy in the States. Plenty of bigoted nutters here to take the Glenn Back role – for a start there’s Richard Littlejohn and Melanie Phillips from the Mail. Sam and I can’t get enough of them. They’re so foamy at the mouth they make us feel like a pair of pinko student protestors. Incidentally, I whole-heartedly agree that all this talk of media plurality is Trotskyist tripe and that the public are not in a position to decide what’s in their interest. That should be left to Rupert, James and your good self.
On a more serious note, Rebs, very pleased to see Rupert taking a stern line with that Andy Gray who, by sheer coincidence, is suing you. Clearly no place for sexism in News Corporation. And I’m sure that all those ladies who posed for page 3 in the last 40 years would thoroughly agree. (By the way, Nick, who, being a Lib Dem is particularly on-message about both sexism and the elderly, says he hates to think what the first one looks like now. Shock horror LOL).
Must be rather irritating for you to have to deal with all this talk about phone hacking. We know it’s been going on everywhere and that tabloid journalists will go to any means to get a story on someone’s bit on the side. Of course, before Rupert bought the Sun all those years ago, there was a relatively limited factory trade in titillating tales that destroyed reputations and broke up families. But, since he made it into a fine art, everybody’s doing it. And a great service to British journalism it has been. Helped the industry no end, entertained the punters at home and been of indescribable social benefit. The sex lives of celebrities is a much healthier subject for your average voter to ponder over than the state of the economy, boring inequality, injustice, corruption at the top and grand scale tax avoidance by multi-millionaires – to say nothing of wars that people don’t understand. And you do it so well, Rebby. A pair of tits, a bit of hanky panky by some excuse for an actor from Emmerdale, a kiss and tell of some drug laden pop singer – fantastic diversion for readers whose lives are being ground down by the misery of coalition cuts necessitated by Labour’s abysmal overspending on schools and hospitals and other things that helped people.
Rebs, let us know when you and Charlie fancy a bit of R and R at Chequers. Just name the date, and I’ll invite anyone you fancy from the world stage. The Obamas aren’t much fun, but I’m sure you’d love a weekend with Govey, Carol Vorderman and Guido Fawkes. There’ll be plenty to do. I can lay on a special team from the Met to give you personal training in top level corruption and bribery techniques. And, because I know it’s your passion, Silvio can put me in touch with some Sicilians who run a top drawer course in new methods of bullying, blackmail, coercion and invisible knee-capping.
Sorry to take up so much of your precious time with this email but seem to have plenty of leisure hours these days. Turns out that being PM is so much easier than working for Carlton. I’ve got the whole country working for me – both those in employment and those who aren’t, through my Big Society wheeze. To say nothing of those Lib Dems mugs beavering away at their despatch boxes all night long, when everyone else has pootled off to their clubs or mistresses.
Working lunch with George to think up a few more cuts for the poor and tax cuts for the rich, then a siesta, followed by a bit of “us” time with Sam before some tea with the kids and their various nannies.
Love from your very own MP.
PS Sorry if my mention of EastEnders brought back painful memories of Ross – well painful for him and the black eye you gave him. But do let me know if you want me to drop the penalties for GBH by red haired women. I’ll have a word with Ken Clarke before I sack him.
PPS Just because you gave six figure settlements to Max Clifford and Gordon Taylor, it doesn’t imply that you knew anything at all. Until a couple of years ago, everyone in Westminster was signing off large amounts without having a clue what the money was for.
PPPS Er be jolly nice if your papers could talk up the economy a bit, as George is feeling a bit depressed, having made a total pig’s arse of things. You could point out that, despite his sterling efforts, we were unexpectedly held back by Labour’s excessive snowfalls.