NickNickNickNickNickNickNickNick. Nick. You really are an asshole, aren't you?
And this, remember, coming from me, means something. It's not just some guy on your way into Parliament hollering 'Hey, Nick! You're an asshole!'. No. When I call someone an asshole, it is with the full weight of a man who knows about assholes. Knowing that sort of shit is how I make my living, so you have to believe me when I say, 'You're an asshole.'
It isn't just mere speculation. It's a professional opinion.
Like a diagnosis. You can take that your doctor, and when she asks what's wrong, say, 'excretera. says I'm an asshole.' She'll know what to do.
First, we had Nick criticising the Institute for Fiscal Studies, because they had the temerity to look at the numbers and realise that his coalition budget wasn't, well, very fair after all. 'But George and David promised me that it was!' he insisted, in the face of all reasonable argument. It's like he really believes his Tory friends. Like we believed Nick. Once.
The human capacity for self-delusion never ceases to amaze me.
The New Statesman's Mehdi Hasan points out that Nick and his pal George weren't always so critical of the IFS. Like, when the IFS's conclusions suited their own needs. They loved the respected IFS then.
And now we have news that Nick has made another another ill-advised attempt to seduce the Common Briton with his tales of his not-really-licentiousness. He likes a cigarette, apparently. He revealed this on Desert Island Discs, presumably thinking that no one was listening?
Of course he knew they were listening. He prayed that we were all listening. 'I know I shouldn't say this and it's a terrible thing,' he said, hoping Kirsty Young would chastise him with a playful slap on the wrist.
Oh you are a naughty boy, aren't you Nick?
(And no. I didn't listen to the programme, and I have no intention to do so. I don't feel a need to be a party to Nick's little masquerade.)
And immediately I was reminded, when I heard this on the news, of that time, do you remember? because this too was so very shocking, when Nick admitted/boasted in an interview with GQ that he had slept with 30 women.
I have no idea if 30 women is a lot to have slept with, or not many. And I don't care. To have slept with 30 women, 24 men and maybe three goats, now that would be interesting. But I still don't care. Both episodes reek of a sort of desperation, a plea for acceptance. 'Look at me, look! I'm not really That Person that you think I am.'
I think we've had enough of your duplicity, Nick. The point is now: shut up.