The Triumph of Harriet Harman

Wasn't this afternoon's PMQs a triumph?
William Hague didn't see me coming.
This is what you get when you send a man to do a woman's job.

I would love to go through every second of it, how sweet it was. I wore my calm and soothing white jacket which I find works wonders in emergency situations.
I have also been taught an ingenious way to deal with those annoying questions put forward by the bloody opposition.
I only need to say "I won't take lectures from (insert name)" or "I won't listen to so-and-so who (insert misdemeanour)" and it works every time! What a fantastic technique, I can't imagine why Dear Gordon doesn't use it more often.

Thanks to everyone who helped me prepare. Especially Ayesha Hazarika, my special advisor, who as you know is also a part-time comedienne and has been teaching me how to tell jokes. Maybe one day they will stop calling me a humourless ice-queen as I like a joke as much as the next person.
It was tough having to memorise all those put-downs, not knowing who was going to turn up at the despatch box, I admit, I almost used the leopard print shoes put-down we'd rehearsed in case it was Theresa May but luckily I realised it was Hague just in time.

Hague sat on his front bench surrounded by the 2 Theresas and that awful, awful Cheryl Gilligan.
They started off laughing at me, and comparing me to bloody Margaret Thatcher. How Dare They! Bastards! Then I pointed out that women in the Modern Tory Party are seen and not heard. There was a great cheer in the chamber and the two Theresas looked like they'd just been chewing their livers. OH RAPTURE!

An uglier trio of women Hague could not have put on the front bench.

So it all went well and even Virgina Bottomley's husband asking a question about RPIs and CPIs (what are they?) couldn't spoil it. Clearly he was trying to show me up, but I batted his question away although Gordon might have to deal with it when he gets back.
Now for a bottle of champagne!