The Ruling Class

I was delighted to hear of a quaint gentleman on the radio just now, who is known by the slightly suspect appellation of “Lord Adonis”. He is a government junior minister of some species, apparently. For a short time, until I researched the matter, I was under the misconception that he had chosen his title upon being elevated to the peerage. I was more than a little disappointed to discover that ‘Adonis’ was his surname, his being of Greek descent. Bugger. I was hoping that we had someone bucking the system from within, now my dreams are destroyed.
However, I am considering a course of action based upon this little episode.
As regular readers are aware, I am constantly being badgered by that fool Blair to accept an honour. Earlier this summer I had the distinctly unpleasant experience of having the idiot hammering on my door early one morning, while I was trying to watch a super 12 game on Sky sports. I had to let the bugger in eventually, as he was disturbing the neighbours. I was expecting Mrs Arbuckle at no 29 to get the air rifle out again at any minute. There is nothing worse than having to scrape an injured first lord of the treasury off of the drive on a Saturday morning. I told him in no uncertain terms that unless he stopped pestering me I would be forced to reveal to the world the secret of his scouse accent, and the eighteen months he spent at her majesty’s pleasure in the 70s.
I am now minded to reconsider the whole business, if I can choose my own name and title. I have drawn up a short list. What do you think?
Along the lines of young Adonis:
Lord Gorgeous of Ample Proportions
Earl Heartthrob

But I am more inclined to one from the following list:
Lord Trellis of North Wales
Lord Syrup of Figs
Lord Nothing of Interest
Lord Oneradishshort of Asalad
Lord Full of Crap