Dear Aunty Newsbiscuit

Dear Aunty NewsBiscuit,

I am a prime minister of what was once a globally respected nation (although I hope you'll understand when I say I'd rather remain anonymous for now). We were perceived as the cradle of democracy and a shining beacon of truth and justice everywhere.

But the thing is, I'm now rather fed up with being seen as a compulsive liar, a risible moron and a bumbling buffoon by virtually everyone on the planet. Many are suggesting that under my tenure, the country's reputation has been absolutely trashed into the dirt. Indeed it is my understanding that even amoeba actually hold this somewhat low opinion of me too.

But, you know, it gets a chap down when he's trying his level best to do right by the country. It's as if I am not appreciated at all. So okay, chaps tell me stuff, but what with one thing and another, pressures of not being found out and so on, I go and forget what it was they told me. I mean I'm only human. Selective memory recall affects most from time to time, although I would concede fewer every single time.

But anyway, my question is this. Do you think it might help were I to smarten myself up a bit, get a new haircut, stop being a feckless oaf and perhaps begin to tell the truth once in a while?

Regards Horace Jobson

Ha Ha! (with such a clever alias you'll never know who I am)

Exclusive: Micro submarine expedition team embarks on search for Boris Johnson's integrity

In a startling development like something straight from a Jules Verne novel, a team of scientists has entered the bloodstream of Boris Johnson inside a micro submarine, for what many say is a forlorn and doomed mission.

Professor Jorge Schmidt of UCL told reporters: 'Using new technology our team was reduced temporarily to microscopic size and is currently searching inside the PM for even the slightest trace levels of integrity or decency.'

It's understood the scientists were ingested painlessly via Mr Johnson's glass of warm milk, and have seventy-two hours to complete their mission in the high-tech craft.

Professor Schmidt gave this update on progress: 'Unsurprisingly, we have drawn a complete blank thus far. What's more the mission is fraught with danger. Last night things nearly came to a sticky and premature end on no less than twenty occasions.

'The sub was in the region of his testicles when Mr Johnson suddenly indulged in a frenzied and sustained bout of masturbation whilst reading about Winston Churchill. Mercifully, he fell asleep before the team was ejaculated, enabling them to navigate to a safer and considerably less active zone - his conscience.

'Our greatest fear however is if they should mistakenly end up in the vicinity of Mr Johnson's cavernous arsehole. Although, in such circumstances each member has been issued with a quick-acting cyanide tablet.'

photo: https://pixabay.com/users/qimono-1962238/

The Peacock of Poppycock duplicates his duplicity

Boris Johnson was recently embarrassed by repeating the same lie in Parliament when he could have been telling a new lie.

Tory intern Henry Hootington-Hurst said 'Lies are to Boris like Princess Diana is to the Daily Express. The PM was annoyed by the duplicated duplicity as he usually considers himself an innovator of untruths, the Michelangelo of mendacity, the doyenne of deceit and dissembling.'

'We've just run short of things to lie about. Everything he says, even personal stuff - how many kids he has, how many wives receiving chemotherapy he's cheated on, even his first name is a lie. To cheer him up, we reminded him he's a one man Fibbing, Fabrications & Falsehood Factory, the Prince of Porky Pies, the Peacock of Poppycock. He suggested a massive party to commiserate or celebrate as long as we kept it on the D/L, so don't say anything.'