Of course I smoke crack, says Boris

BORIS Johnson has admitted being ‘on the pipe’.

Following the moving confession by Toronto’s mayor that he had dabbled in crack, Boris Johnson admitted that he too was partial to the invigorating substance.

He said: “Obviously I smoke crack, or ‘the mayor’s friend’ as I prefer to call it.

“London life is all about highs and lows – the incredible euphoria of shopping on Bond Street, the crushing despair of living in a Wood Green bedsit.

“I tried understanding the city by reading lots of Peter Ackroyd books, but they didn’t really give me those extreme emotions like crack does.

“Also it gives me great ideas, like my plan to build an airport in the middle of a river.”

Political analyst Julian Cook said: “Illegal drugs make up 40 per cent of London’s economy and 100 per cent of its recreational activity, so it’s logical that we have a mayor who is an out-and-proud basehead.”

Londoner Joanna Kramer said: “That’s why I voted for Boris, because he’s sweaty and unkempt which in my impressionable mind equates to personality.

“I don’t mind if he smokes crack, he earns a good salary so he should be able to keep it together.”

Boris Johnson added: “I’m not ashamed to be a man of the people. You think I live in a big fancy house in West London, actually it’s a squat with all the copper stripped out and pigeons nesting in the bathroom.”

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Lady Gaga's M & S ad concept

SOME of my little monsters have sad faces today because they are execs at Marks & Spencer.

But I quickly identified the problem: it was the Christmas ad campaign. I saw I’d have to give them a few pointers about ‘concept’.

Every Christmas ad needs a nativity, right? And what says British Christmas like Beckham, Princess Kate and the baby Jesus (played by a lobster)? They’ve ridden all the way into town on a tired donkey (Russell Crowe) and they need to get him a bag of M&S microwave-in-the-bag carrot batons pronto, or he’ll just get tetchy and wander off.

Panning over to a frosty window, what’s this Dickensian spectacle? A stony faced, illiterate family sitting down to a morose Christmas dinner. Dad, Bob, is sad because there’s nothing on the table. But wait! Here are his frugal daughters, Pixie, Peaches and Fifi who have taken advantage of the Dine In For £10 deal and now they have a fancy prawn risotto and a bottle of £5.99 shiraz. And the best part is, after they’ve finished the meal, they use leftover prawns to cover their nipples while they cartwheels around the square performing punk carols.

And where would we be without Santa? “Dimples so merry, nose like a cherry, bowl full of jelly?” Wanna know who I met for the first time recently who fits this description literally 100 percent? Bono.

So I’m thinking he’s in the grotto, on his knee is sitting his fellow Bono, Cher. She’s having a tantrum because her pants are too tight and she’s been wearing the wrong size bra since, like, forever. But what’s this? Santa reaches into his sack and brings out a parcel – a pair of maroon treggings from the Blue Harbour collection and a sachet of Ibuleve gel. Scene ends with Cher dropping to the ground in ecstasy, crying real tears onto his feet before wiping them clean with her beautiful weave.

And here’s the hook: viewers on Twitter can vote to name the weave.

All that’s left to do now is sit back and watch Per Una boleros fly off the shelves. You’re welcome, Britain.

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