Alex Salmond takes STV behind the scenes of his week* (*Not really)

In the week that Alex Salmond confessed he sometimes forgets he is no longer First Minister and the Sunday Herald revealed the SNP will continue to provide its former leader with a chauffeur-driven car, STV publishes the following excerpts from Mr Salmond’s diaries, with an introduction by the man himself.*

Greetings, fellow sovereign Scots!

You will have been wondering where I’ve gone now that I feature only in every other item on the TV news. Well, I’ve been resting since leading the Yes campaign to a moral victory in the referendum. Thankfully the negotiations for the division of moral assets haven’t been quite so taxing.

Besides, it’s hard work being First Minister, spiritual leader to The 45, and the man responsible for holding Westminster’s feet to the fire. 2015 is set to be another exciting year for the SNP under my ongoing leadership.

It’s important to get our message out – and get around the hated forces of MSM vowery. So I decided to take my column from the letters page of The Herald to the Press and Journal. The money’s better and I no longer have to write in green ink.

I can’t think of a better way of reaching out to Yes voters who have never voted SNP than by writing for a newspaper that serves one of the most heavily No-voting parts of the country. Everyone I asked agrees with me. (I had to consult random people in the street since all my special advisers have mysteriously gone missing. Come to think of it, it’s been a while since a civil servant brought me something to sign.)

But I want to spread the message of independence home rule even further, so I have agreed to let our friends at YesTV publish my diary for the week. This isn’t intended as a snub to those lying b******s at the BBC I hate them so so so much the Unionist quisling traitors.

It’s okay. I’m over it now.

MONDAY

I find myself settling back into a routine now the referendum is over for a generation or until May. I get up at 6am, turn on BBC Radio “Scotland” and take out my stopwatch to count the number of seconds the weather forecaster gives to Glasgow, Dundee, North Lanarkshire, and West Dunbartonshire. As usual, more time is given to the 28 other local authorities. I WONDER WHY?!?!?!

David Torrance is introduced down the line. No doubt those little gauleiters at GMS have booked him just to wind me up. Well, it won’t get to me. Before I stick my fingers in my ears and sing Freedom Come-All-Ye to block out the Westminster lies, I hear him say he is writing a “biography of the First Minister”. He’s already written one! Then he claims the book is about Nicola. Typical inconsistency from this Unionist lackey, whom I don’t even know.

Speaking of Nicola, she’s mentioned something about me still having a car and a driver despite our “change in roles”. I have no idea what she’s talking about. Apparently that Labour apparatchik Paul Hutcheon is going to write about it. The Sunday Herald must be desperate for copy if they think the First Minister having a driver is a story.

TUESDAY

I have to wait 20 minutes for my car to arrive at Bute House this morning. When he finally shows up, my new driver says he hadn’t expected to be picking me up from the First Minister’s official residence. Where else would I be?! I am the First Minister, after all!

Not too keen on this new driver, Jeffrey. I notice a copy of the D***y R****d on the seat beside him. Is he MI5?

We get to talking about politics during the drive. “I am fighting for a fair, egalitarian, social democratic Scotland,” I tell my chauffeur.

“I’ve always voted Labour,” he confesses, his cultural cringe visible in the rear-view mirror.

“There’s no need to apologise,” I reassure the pitiful self-hater. “Just make sure you vote SNP in May.”

“Why?” he asks, as if it wasn’t blindingly obvious.

“To keep the Tories out,” I explain calmly. “They are right-wing, want to cut taxes for the rich, and put a cap on benefits.”

“Why can’t I just vote Labour to do that?”

“Because they are right-wing, want to cut taxes for the rich, and put a cap on benefits. They are Red Tories.”

“Well, what will the SNP do with all the extra seats it wins at Westminster?”

“Support a minority Labour government, of course.”

“But why?”

“Because we’re right-wing, want to cut taxes for the rich, and put a cap on benefits. It’s really very simple.”

He just doesn’t get it. I fear it’s too late for Jeffrey. He’s already been lost to MSM brainwashing.

Off to a Scottish Government Cabinet meeting. Roseanna gives me a funny look as if I’m not supposed to be there and even gasps when I sit down in my regular seat. I guess she still hasn’t got over the 2004 leadership race. Oddly enough, Nicola gives me the exact same look when she walks in, before smiling shallowly and sitting down next to me. She’s probably worried about this book Tory Boy Torrance is writing about her. She’ll have to get used to this kind of pressure if she’s ever going to be First Minister.

Cabinet is dominated by talk of an “oil crisis”. More scaremongering from that Better Together plant Fergus Ewing. I try to point out that oil is trading at $113 a barrel and even showed him proof — the line in the White Paper where I say just that. He refuses to listen to reason, that man. I just know Severin Carrell is behind all this.

I tell Cabinet: “I will go on defending Scotland’s sovereign right to elect me to run stuff. The rocks will melt wi’ the sun before I allow them to impose tuition fees in Scotland. The rocks will melt wi’ the sun before I allow them to get away with The Vow. The rocks will melt wi’ the sun before I get a new Burns line.”

I had to write that bit myself. My speechwriter has also gone AWOL. Thank goodness I still have my car and a driver, even if he is probably a front man for Torcuil Crichton.

WEDNESDAY

NASDAQ puts the value of oil down to $45 a barrel. If Torrance thinks this will get to me, he’s got another thing coming.

I notice Jeffrey is again reading The Paper That Shall Not Be Named Because It Sold Our Country Down The River Shame On It For All Eternity (TPTSNBNBISOCDTRSOIFAE for short) but I’ve come armed with a copy of The National to give him.

“You’ll enjoy this much more, Jeffrey,” I say. “The National is the fairest newspaper in Scotland. It gives equal space to both sides: People who think the SNP is the only party that stands up for Scotland and people who think Jim Murphy is a lizard controlled by the Rothschilds.”

“My name’s not actually Jeffrey. It’s Donald.”

“But Donald’s a Scottish name. You read the Daily Record.”

“What? I don’t under– Look, I’m Scottish,” he protests.

“Of course you are,” I say, soothingly. He can’t remember his real name, I note to myself. Just like any MI5 agent who’s had to assume a false identity.

Car journeys are taking longer since I instructed Jeffrey to avoid all routes that pass by branches of Asda, John Lewis, or Standard Life. And they thought there’d be no day of reckoning! We still have to pass The Scotsman building but I put my hand against the car window and tilt my head so the sign reads “The          man”. That’ll show Kenny Farquaharson.

Still, the drive gives me time to read Derek Bateman and make sure I haven’t missed anything to be offended by on BBC Scotland today. Turns out I’m good.

THURSDAY

I head to the Scottish Parliament for First Minister’s Questions and get into the chamber to find Nicola sitting in my seat. Bless, she’s ambitious but she’s got a few more years to wait until I stand down.

Something odd happens. The presiding officer asks for questions to the First Minister but doesn’t call on me to answer them. Instead, Nicola keeps jumping up and taking question after question. I don’t know what’s got into Tricia Marwick the past few weeks. Strange.

Well, at least I don’t have to listen to that insufferable Kezia Dugdale. She’s referred to me as the “former First Minister” more than once now. Totally out of touch with the reality of life in Scotland. Ruth Davidson’s even worse. I hate Tories. That’s why I governed with their support for four years, just to show my strong moral objection to them.

FRIDAY

I wake up to a bizarre email from Nicola asking when I plan to move out of Bute House. Is she considering a leadership coup?

Unionist astroturf operation Wings over Scotland has published a “poll” claiming more Scots want to keep Trident than get rid of it. More propaganda from this Murphyite agent provocateur. The sovereign will of the people of Scotland is to remove nuclear weapons from Faslane. I know this because I’ve said it many times. Strongly suspect Wings is in league with Torrance. After all, this is the same man who said my currency plan would be a vote loser! Hah!

I love Scotland. In fact, I love it so much that I’d rather be in London. But that’s just so I can remind them all how valuable our oil continues to be to their economy.

So I jump in my car. “To Westminster, Jeffrey,” I direct, “where everyone will be dead keen to go into coalition with me after I just spent three years calling them all heartless b******s with their collective jackboot stamped upon the neck of Scotland.”

“But you haven’t won yet Mr—I mean, First Minister,” he says. “And my name really isn’t Jeffrey.”

Jeffrey wants to put Scotland back in its box but he has another thing coming.

“Things can only get better,” I remind him, wisely.

“Wasn’t that Tony Blair’s theme song? I guess the D:Ream shall never die.”

He’s too clever by half, is Jeffrey. I suspect him of being in league with Nick Robinson, Jackie Bird, and John Barrowman.

“Okay, First Minister. Westminster is it. I just need to stop for petrol. It’s so cheap right now.”

I bite my lip. Definitely MI5.

*These really are Alex Salmond’s diary entries. They totally weren’t made up by Stephen Daisley. Nope, no way. He would never do such a thing.

Originally published on STV News. Feature image © Barryob by Creative Commons 2.0.