After a grim Friday, slogging through the muddy grime of a rainy and sunless day, I picked myself up by a date with the old blunderer, Boris!
The date, admittedly, didn’t get off to a promising start – turns out we have zilch in common when it comes to politics. But things started to perk up a bit (Not in that sense – stupid! I’m a married lady! This was a strategic date – both of us were keen to discuss our respective would-be comedian personas!) when Boris was kind enough (wrong word!), or, rather egocentric enough, to treat me to a reading of his boyhood diary.
Within seconds, (i.e. before I had the opportunity to inform him that I really wasn’t all that interested), I found myself being bombarded with the most complex of words. He hit me with ‘vituperative’, ‘bellatristic’ and ‘mendocity’, amongst many other beasts. And, even with my extensive higher education and 23 years of teaching, I found myself scrabbling around inside the library of my brain for some semblance of meaning. I had to dig deeper than deep and still didn’t get any of it, or any of Boris. This wasn’t really a problem, however, because when (some hours later) Boris blasted out his last bit of stuff and nonsense, and asked me for my considered-constructive feedback, I just laughed!
And laughed some more. Like I said, I found the whole thing (because thing is what it was) absolutely hilarious. Granted, you will think me a trifle rude for laughing in Boris’ face like that (i.e. like Amber laughing in love-rat Michael’s face on Love Island 2019), but, unlike Michael (sensitive soul), Boris didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he lapped it all up, loving himself even more for being laughed at. And so busy was he, congratulating himself for what he took to be my high praise, that he didn’t seem to hear my very polite request for a return of the favour.
I had gone all out of my way, on a Friday evening, to converse with my fellow comedic writer, Boris, and I didn’t even get the chance to read to him from my own fake diary!
Making my excuses (he didn’t listen to those either!), I left him patting himself on the back, and did a runner … To be fair though, had I just backed out of the venue in slow motion, he would have been none the wiser for the slow evaporation of one person in his imagined audience of thousands.
To be honest, then I did start to feel a little guilty, once I’d come down from the adrenalin-induced elation one gets when escaping from the enemy; so, hoping to make amends, I made use of my me-time on the train back to Suffolk, by doing a Boris book search on Amazon. I know he’s supposed to be rich, in the way that great leaders are, who are above the law and can set their own personal minimal wage, but, judging by his lack of a recent haircut, I was guessing him to be down on his luck. Perhaps the personal loan he’d tried to take out with the backing of his mate, the Queen, had been turned down? And what would I most desire, if down on my anti-depressants? Why, for someone to lift my spirits by purchasing one of my books (had I published any)!
So imagine my shock when, an Amazon search for ‘‘The Secret Diary of Boris Johnson: Aged 13 1/4’, revealed the truth (i.e. the lies). Boris, in spite of his Eton education, is not even the author of his own childhood! The lazy b*****d hired a ghost writer! No wonder old Boris is short of cash – such an esteemed author as the one and only Lucien Young, author of ‘Alice in Brexitland’, is hardly going to come cheap!
As I said at the beginning, and in the middle, and now at the end – hilarious! Buy your copy ASAP! You might even be putting cash into the hands of a worthy cause. And, no, I’m not talking about the real author, Lucien Young, I’m talking about me – me, me, me! My pals at Waterstones pay me a small commission for every book I can persuade you to order via one of my links! With one book sold to date, and a payment of 40p into my coffers, I am on my way to putting down that deposit ready for my next house move. Belle Vue House, here I come ……..!
Copyright of review owned by Jay Cool, late buddy of Boris Johnson, October 2019
If you can cope with it, do have fun reading a furhter selection of tributes to my old pal: