If you like your politics unfolding like a slow-motion car crash involving a clown in an exploding three-wheeled jalopy then Boris is your man.
To be fair, that’s exactly how I like my politics. Where’s the fun in sober policies tackling issues of the day when you can have booze smuggled into Number 10 in suitcases at parties everyone denies happened … until the photos emerge?
Anyway, I’m sure it’ll all end soon with a bucket of confetti thrown into the audience after all the wheels fall off BJ’s banger and his engine erupts with a ‘bang.’ Wipe the custard from your eyes and enjoy the coming weeks.
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If the Tory MPs still continue to back Boris, I can only assume they’ve been hit by a virus best described as Lame Duckitis.
Which brings me the subject of this column. Who comes up with the names of these diseases?
While I don’t want to belittle the rise in monkeypox infections in the UK, I can’t help but feel the fears may be exacerbated by the ugly name of the disease which has hogged the headlines despite being relatively rare.
Could they have thought of a more off-putting moniker?
I’m quite happy to say I’ve caught Covid and survived, but I think I’d keep any monkeypox infection to myself.
And this is while health authorities are struggling to get people to come forward with the condition because of the stigma attached to it. Well, give it a more attractive name.
Shark Flu would be much better.
You could wear that one with pride. “Yeah, Shark Flu sunk its jaws deep, but I battled through it.”
Or what about a particularly vicious bout of Tiger Chills? “They were multiplying, but shook them off.” Anything but monkeypox, I say.
Monkeypox sounds like the lurgy you would catch having had one too many late at night and ended up at the wrong party… bit like Boris Johnson really.