It’s Thursday morning. Boris Johnson, who made a former KGB agent’s son a lord and attended sexy parties at his fairytale hacienda, has failed to hand over his mobile phone to the Covid inquiry as some secret spies said there might be all stuff on it. Johnson has also spaffed out another child, this time…
At my secondary school, a friend of mine pretended to be the confidant of the tragic Scottish child star Lena Zavaroni, maintaining that time away on family holidays was actually spent visiting the ailing singer at her home in Scotland. He even went as far as appearing to receive and engage in phone calls from…
On Wednesday morning, Judge Heather Hallett, head of the Covid inquiry, was still dismayed by the ongoing absence of the elusive government WhatsApp messages. Like King Arthur in reverse, the government WhatsApp messages slept silently in a cave for eons, only to disappear in Albion’s hour of need. The previous week, the Cabinet Office had…
As a boy, in 1977, I made a stupid monkey face at Queen Elizabeth II as she drove past us in Solihull’s Mell Square on her silver jubilee perambulations. “You aren’t funny, Stewart,” my gran said of the subsequent photograph, unaware that I would one day be declared “the world’s greatest living standup comedian” (the…
On Wednesday, Rishi Sunak opened his tiny mouth wide, as wide as it could possibly go, and announced “a new plan to stop scams at the source and help make it easier for people to protect themselves from fraudsters”. Meanwhile, his former boss Boris Johnson, who had persuaded some mug to pay for his wallpaper…
All across the land the emergency alarm went off. Oliver Dowden had been appointed deputy prime minister. The harsh metallic tone of the mobile phone sounded suspiciously like the rattle of a barrel being scraped bare. Metal on metal. There’s not an ounce of talent left in the Tory party. If it was a circus…