Yes, it’s official. Alexander Boris de Spaffle Johnson is shortly heading for No 10 to choose the new curtains and redecorate. Possibly he will delegate the remodelling task to his current girlfriend, as she has already proved herself to be more than able to cover for him when he’s got his eyes elsewhere.
Along with the rest of the nation, Bryntin was fully aware this day would come, from about 10 minutes after he heard of Theresa May’s resignation, but he still has the exact same hollow feeling of gnawing, hurtful disbelief and depression setting in as the morning after the EU referendum.
The shock factor was lacking but the horror is similar.
Those familiar with UK politics will doubtless be aware of the failings of the blonde clown. He is chock full of the gold-plated Etonian belief of entitlement. Every utterance is loaded with some esoteric Ancient Greek reference or a sprinkle of Latin, just to let you know he must be a superior human to you because he expensively knows these things. The only thing lacking at Eton, given that it is a high class school, is that they obviously don’t have any lessons in class .
But, in an effort not to alienate the more ordinary but aspiring and righteous among us – and therefore largely successful among Daily Mail readers – he plays the bumbling eccentric fool well. Famously scruffy, all mismatched jogging outfits and hanging out shirts and as morally suspect in his private life as many a hero of a working class TV drama for the tabloids to get their teeth into .
But he is a liar. All his many overpaid careers (no interviews required, just introductions from the right people) have been distinguished by his lying.
Elevated to a senior position in the Cabinet – laughably, for a not-so-closet racist, Foreign Secretary no less – he achieved nothing except embarrassing the UK all over the world and, getting his bumbling act mixed up so badly with the required diplomacy, he was directly responsible for making things generally much worse than they were before as soon as he opened his mouth.
Well, yesterday, 23rd July 2019, marked the last day of not-struggling to achieve all that de Spaffle Johnson has ever wanted since he was a spoilt little boy.
‘Become Prime Minister’ was the top and last entry on his todo list. He has achieved it now. After that is a scribble, with no tick boxes, marked ‘I’ll think of something else.’
We are now, along with him, wondering what the hell happens next. He’s made promises but really only enough to get him where he is, and different depending on what he needed to say to get the support of whoever he was talking to. He won’t have bothered to try to remember what he told them.
He’ll get a Cabinet of all the other
talents liars together, who have been fawning around him for weeks in the hope of a job, unable to choose from anyone really principled or competent as they’ll have already resigned and run away. Then he’s got to think of a few policies and deliver them all, including the impossible Brexit.
Still, should be interesting.
Come back next week to find out if the UK is still here.