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Experts in the mating habits of politicians are doubtful whether the former Tory leader can continue procreating indefinitely. "He has an overwhelming compulsion to spread his genes", explains Richard Dawkins, "but finding a suitable partner becomes more of a challenge for a man pushing 60, especially one who seems to sleep in his suit and have his hair cut by Stevie Wonder".


Biologists have been carefully monitoring Boris's philoprogenitive ways for the last 30 years, concerned that he could eventually swamp the English biosphere with Bojo clones. "We don't know what reproductive strategy he'll try next", David Attenborough whispers, sneaking after the bicycling blond with his wildlife camera. "We've established that Tories can't lay eggs, but there's still the fission option or surrogacy".


Meanwhile, ecologists are alarmed at the news that Boris has promised his Daily Mail readers that he'll be taking a tour of Britain "to test the facilities" at the country's sperm banks.




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A study into why voters in Britain are so custard thick and always choosing the crap that will do them the most harm has concluded "why f*cking bother?"


Professor Susie Vorderman from the Institute of Melded Clever Celebrities explained, '56% of people you wouldn't spit on if they were on fire want former prime minister Boris Johnson back in charge and wrecking everything like a poorly supervised sugar-crazed toddler at a delicate antique crystalware display.'


Professor Carol Dent added, 'But that very same subset of people also can't say Boris Johnson's nickname correctly, even though it is only four letters long. They are all still saying BoJo like it is Bow-Jo, when actually it should be pronounced Bodge-O like a pally Australian mate would say it. You wouldn't say Bowris Johnson, would you?


'No, not bow like you might bow to royalty, you dunce, bow like what you would use to fire an arrow at BoJo, if you were royalty.'





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A shamed Health Minister was forced to admit that they had mislaid one: 'Not only have we failed to provide any new services, it transpires that the Royal Hospital, Wolverhampton, has been replaced by a Primark.


'It's not that we've lost it, it's just not where we left it. We've looked in all the usual places and retraced our steps. Quite frankly, we're beginning to doubt there was a hospital at all.


'Possibly it was swallowed by a sink hole or stolen by teenagers? It seems to have disappeared just at the same time all the NHS funding we promised disappeared. It's very frustrating, if we can't find it, how are we meant to sell it off?'



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