Poor "Sir" Ian Bliar. His pathetic failure to provide proper leadership when he was given the most senior job in UK policing and the abrupt way in which he was effectively forced out by Boris must really rankle.
The evidence is in his ghastly self-serving whitewash of a book, being serialised in the Mail on Sunday, where his every move and motive is whiter than white and holier than Jesus on a Sunday in Lent. It's enough to make your flesh creep, learning how supportive the fat greasy cunt was of everyone despite all their manifest weaknesses and failings.
I'm on the edge of my seat waiting for the instalment where he personally gives mouth-to-mouth to John Charles de Meneses on the floor of the tube train in Stockwell station, and only failed to revive the poor bastard because his "officers" had blown his brains out with multiple shots from point blank range after failing to give any warning.
What a shame the Booker Prize for pretentious fiction has already been handed out.
Still, with the Nobel Peace Prize going to Obamalama, there's always hope.