A big card going round so everyone can write cheeky messages on it? A fiver a head alright? Big Jean's collecting. Smashing.
'OK, what will we get him? New golf bag? A jumper? A plastic apron with a pair of boobies on it?'
It's evident that the gaffer's decision to stand down as First Minister has reinvigorated his mojo.
He's like a jazz drummer playing with no tension, all feel, triplets and drum rolls, taking the dynamic up a few gears, showing great touches and flourishes.
The diplomatic shackles are well and truly cast aside.
He doesn't have to stand by and remain tactful and muted? He's ditched the usually meticulous statesmanlike approach and struck back at anything and anyone he's unhappy with.
He's more relaxed, firing back at those he has in his sights and shooting from the plastic hip.
This week he went for Sir Jeremy Heywood the head of the UK civil service over the damning email which shows the UK Treasury leaked sensitive information before the RBS board had even made their decision.
Vindication and vengeance taste sweet.
He took great enjoyment from Cameron's break in protocol and highlighted his lack of class.
He breached the convention that the PM never speaks about conversations with the monarch, compromising her (supposed) traditional neutrality.
In describing her 'purring down the line' Cameron made her sound like a geriatric home worker on a sex line, heavy breathing like a chain smoking, asthmatic Eartha Kitt with dog and cat allergies.
Then the curt response to The Herald's David Torrance, showed that the soon to be non FM was in gallus, ebullient and indeed fine fettle.
I look forward to reading anything he has to write while also wanting to make clear that my book Sandy Trout The Memoir is indeed a spoof comedy and a fictional memoir.
Question: What has happened to the Labour Party? Well I only have a 1000 (ish) words and loads to get through.
In Scotland they're on life support and in the UK it's worse. They seem like a busted flush.
I listened to Ed Balls on the radio, he needs a speechwriter, he tries to be funny but it's forced.
He sounded awkward, incompetent and like a Tory. Ed Miliband spoke and of course talked about this person he "met", most likely his carer.
His shtick is that it's all done from memory without notes. Notes are OK for a politician.
He's not the boss of Apple launching a new product and walking about like a cool techno geek billionaire.
It's important he doesn't miss anything out, these speeches are his pitch to campaign for Prime Minister and forgetting to speak about the deficit was an unforced error and needn't have happened.
You can imagine him trying to put together a piece of furniture from memory, 'yeah I don't need instructions, it's all in here…'
In terms of taste, the SNP may be flavour of the week, however in terms of fashion, MSP Angela Constance and her choice of shoes were, let's be nice, more quirky than stylish, more eccentric than fashionable.
I suggest the SNP get wee Nicky Sturgeon in as gaffer pronto to rid the party of such fashion faux pas.
I like Stewart Hosie as well. I think Hosie would give good handers (pronounced hon-urs as in help) in a fight. 'Stewart!!!! Handers!!!' The sooner Scottish politics has more women in charge and becomes like Borgen the better.
With everyone joining the SNP, unlike Tesco, their stock has never been higher. It was remarkable this week to see so many people engage, invest and sign up to a political party.
I wish them all well. I'm genuinely happy to see anyone engage politically. Being something of a contrarian, I've decided that I will never vote again.
Henceforth, my only active engagement with politics will be to wilfully lampoon and deride the system and anyone in politics who deserves it.
Until there is a complete change in the concept, I refuse to vote.
'Oh how can he say that?' 'He's just being stupid and selfish.' Yup. I'm not just disillusioned with politics, but the mechanism and machinery and of the process.
It clearly doesn't work. Here's the problem; over 1.6 million voted for something and over 2 million voted for something else.
It now appears that many of those who won feel unhappy or let down.
The side who lost now seem galvanised in defeat?
I voted when I was three or four, my dad lifted me up and held my hand to allow me to mark a cross.
I've walked through wind and rain to vote in council elections and by-elections; never missed a vote.
I was taught how important it was. If I ever vote again it will be through the medium of mime.
There's something wrong, something immoral with the way power is unleashed, lies are told, the full apparatus of a government bulldozing those who want change, while lying to those who don't.
Something's wrong with the model. When people say yeah, I want to reinvent the wheel politically I say well let's you and I talk.
What's your plan? Let's make a scone and talk. OK? I like it. But the system still remains.
What about something more punk rock? Let's ignore all reason and logic. I say let's be more avant garde.
Let's get inspired by The Anarchist Party of Canada, adopt the Dadaist approach, involve the visual arts, poetry, music, graphic design.
Not so much Marxist but a kind of Groucho Marxist approach. We could call the manifesto Das Crapital.
Don't mark X in a box, think outside the box.
We should be inspired to bake flans and toss them in the face of any of Labour's five most wanted Scottish fear-mongers.
Points and superiority will be granted through the accuracy of cake splatter and the skill and artistry involved in the performance.
For example, a clown on a unicycle with a monkey on its back with the said monkey throwing a custard pie at John Reid would probably be our leader.
What better way to break the components of the political machine but through ridicule, parody and soft anarchy?
If someone eluded security at the Labour conference and 'pied' Douglas Alexander while he tried to sing the Red Flag (did you see that guy? Does he need help? Maybe a medication alarm?), they would be deputy leader.
Of course this isn't Vancouver, British Colombia. They're cool.
Back to the drawing board.
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