Some say, our heroic lawmaker lawbreaker lawpisstaker Prime Minister Boris Johnson has earned the respect of a grateful nation. Never have so many owed so much to so few, as millions of the middle classes plummet into debt to a handful of fabulous, opulently wealthy owners of fast track VIP lane companies.
Despite not doing everything he couldn't think of, it proved sinew straining to cull the destitute. But thank you, our uber-Churchillian leader, for accomplishing the pandemic kill off of the old, and the disabled, and the foreign, and the poor. 180,000 is a glorious achievement, and we salute you with the two fingers of glory.
But wait, Sir Boris did say he was absolutely definitely staying, so is another one of his trademark u-turns on his u-turns still on the cards? We certainly hope so, as the joy of fracking is once again invited to the table and mounted firmly on it. What Britain needs now more than anything is a damn good fracking.
Snowflakes melting in the lovely temperatures Lord Boris has brought to our yellow and pleasant land no longer have the energy to complain about Brexit. It has been such a great success, that we eagerly await the oven ready plan to Get Brexit Redone. There is certainly a nice preparatory browning on the surface, and the aroma is delightful.
Big Dog was not an international trade descriptions violation and we will have none of the Plump Pooch rebranding requirements, thank you very much. Listen here, foreigners: Emperor Boris is responsible for a very special tranche of patriotism called National Shame.
