Prescott admires a pair of Twitterers #lab09

Now that Gordon's much awaited speech has been delivered, and fallen to earth with a sickening squelch, the Labour faithful can relax. Rub some cream into those hands, sore from all the mandatory frenzied applause; massage the cheeks, sore from all that rictus grinning, and paaaaaaarrrrrrrrty.

It's a once-a-year chance for the lowly activists to mix with the big beasts. For the major players to thank those who've worked to promote them, often in the face of all real evidence.

John Prescott, famous for his late-onset Twittering (well, allegedly - we all know its his son, really) has been able to meet with his most avid sycophants already.

His new online besties are @bevaniteelllie and @kerryMP, two of the most tediously frequent pro-Labour 'tweeters' on the planet. Kerry has even been awarded the post of 'Twitter Csar' for Labour, and Ellie has 'Twittered' over 6,500 times, telling us all how wonderful all things left 'n' Labour are, and how #welovetheNHS, and how evil those kitten-strangling Tories will be.

Here's Two Jags, thanking them personally at t' conference (or #lab09, as twitterers call it):

How lovely. Old and young, united by their common love of New Labour and the New Technology.

But, Kerry and Ellie, beware. Old Uncle Prezza might not just be after a quick look at your Tweets. He may be interested in more than just your laptop.

Ask Tricia McDaid, former press officer at Labour party headquarters. She recalls the then deputy prime minister “jumped” on her at parties and once turned up uninvited at her home, hoping for sexual favours.

“He just leapt on me at one party and his tongue was halfway down my throat.”

Nice. Such was Prescott’s reputation that Tricia resorted to wearing trouser suits "to avoid his wandering hands in the lifts" at his Westminster office.

And, girls, look what happened to Linda MacDougal , in the hallway of her own house, a few years ago:

"I opened the door to Prescott and showed him in. It was the first time I’d met him. As he came through the door, he pushed me quite forcefully against the wall and put his hand up my skirt  ... He was just trying it on. ... I just rebuffed him politely. He shrugged and winked and we all carried on"

Super. Quite the ladies' man, is old Johnny P.

So, not too many Barcardi Breezers, eh, ladies? Keep a tight hold of your own room keys too.

And watch where he puts his hands...


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