A MONTH AGO HE WAS LECTURING ME ON MY MORALS.

Byline: George Galloway

NEWS of Edinburgh's finest pipsqueak Nigel Griffiths' naked romps breaks in the Sunday press.

That was one Remembrance Day the former minister will never forget.

The news surprised me on at least a couple of grounds.

First the bantam-weight politician always struck me as, how shall I put it, not a ladies' man. If anything, I saw him as an inky-fingered policy wonker whose idea of a good night in was curling up with a book of Treasury forecasts. Second, well only a month or two ago he was regaling a mutual friend at the BBC with an excoriating lecture on my own morals and standards.

Not knowing he was among all the other things a hypocrite, I obviously concluded he must be, himself, a paragon of virtue. Now that we know that while his loyal wife was at home minding the constituency, he would have a Miss Terry Brunette round for tea, crumpet and an oak table end rogering, well, we must all re-calibrate, as he would put it, our estimation of this parliamentary top-pocket Titan.

Unaccountably, the old joke popped into my head as I pictured him, pin-striped breeks at his ankles, the member risen and not on a point of order.

Why are the Wee Frees so against sex standing up? Because it might lead to dancing!

God save us from the uncoguid.

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ROMP: Griffiths