Scrapping over the pancake

So it's Dave. And Nick.

Cue the outcry from those in the old dart who don't believe Old Etonians and their Westminster chums should rule the tuckshop. But what's the point of breeding an officer class if you don't use it? And who better than the amalgamation of England's oldest political parties to usher in the age of change?

Fear not housemates, this is going to be fun.

It'll be a wheeze watching the toffs be as earthy, modern and groovy as they can in the coming days. An absolute pledge not to resurrect badger baiting and the Corn Laws, along with a commitment to remain in the heart of Europe, only this time in an engraved, lead-lined capsule. A pound a week rise for chimney sweeps. Boat Race rosettes pushed aside in favour of premier league polyester (Villa for Dave apparently, a la Nigel Kennedy). Methinks it's time to big up monocle futures.

Here in sunny Straya we miss out on all this class warfare, as we are one great big happy country segregated only by income and the topiary of Sydney's north shore. No need for the class struggle when our minerals are liberated in the name of Chinese peasants and their terribly modern and forward-thinking masters.

One final thought. Dave (or David, as he is known by his friends) likes Bob Dylan and Jura whisky. So he can't be all bad, eh, what?