IT’S ALIVE! IT’S ALIVE : The Frankensteinian creation of privilege and 55 Tufton Street, Boris Johnson, has used a Facepamphlet Dead address to accuse his pants of collaborating with fire.
Mr Johnson, prime minister of a rapidly dis-uniting Kingdom (that’ll be all the lies), spoke out after being unable to speak without smelling smoke.
“As Mary Shelley said on the famous morning of her sailing adventure down the River Clyde, there’s no smoke without fire. Oh my God! My pants are alive!”
The address to the nation, which was scripted to be delivered with a big wooden spoon and fork, as is used to dish out salads, in this case word salads, was given over the social media platform so Mr Johnson could evade scrutiny.
“Not that he cares,” our political truth correspondent, Mr Desp Air, said, “he’ll just make a racist remark to distract attention from his lies. It’s proven to be a very successful strategy with a sub-section of lobotomised voters and members of parliament.”
But the accusation of collaboration between Mr Johnson’s pants and the hot element push the Johnsonian bar even lower.
“It’s impressive,” our analyst continued, “he’s taken a break from being a shite Churchill impersonator to having a crack at Mussolini. It’s interesting to see how low a populist will go. Especially the use of such inflammatory language when the political climate is already febrile. People are in the courts for making death threats to MPs opposed to the nationalist politics gamed by Mr Johnson and co, and here he is with this language?”
It’s unlikely the speech will have the desired effect though. It’s more likely to add more fuel to an already toxic and blazing flame.