Boris Johnson's biography of Britain's greatest prime minister Boris Johnson: A preview

CAN’T wait to find out how Boris Johnson shamelessly lies about events after his disastrous stint in Downing Street? Here’s a sneak preview of chapters from his upcoming biography of himself.

Chapter 1

Boris stood proud and resolute in his trademark overcoat, a glass of brandy in his hand, smoking a large cigar, his eyes set on Destiny. His reverie was broken by some officious little blighter no better than a German prison camp guard.

‘Johnson! Why are you in my office wearing my coat? And helping yourself to my alcohol and cigars is theft. Plus you’re only 12. I’d write a letter to your father, but he’s clearly an arsehole too. Now get out.’

Johnson raised his fingers at the Eton form master in the V for victory sign. Victory that would soon be his. 

‘Get stuffed,’ he said, as Marcus Aurelius would probably have done. 

Chapter 6

As Mayor of London, Boris had been a total triumph. He had introduced buses and bikes to the city, both previously unknown in the capital. Now he wanted to introduce a new means of travel for commuters – his revolutionary zip wire system. 

For just £16 billion pounds, he would pioneer an elaborate scheme, a web of wires stretching across Greater London, attached to poles or something, enabling commuters to slide all over the city. He put it to the London Assembly.

‘Boris, for reasons that ought to be obvious to any sentient human being, this is an insane idea,’ said some jobsworth. 

‘Well, it’s too late. I’ve already spaffed the £16 billion to my pal Eustace Spink-Bottle. Said he could get the whole thing done in a jiffy. He knows his stuff. He’s a journalist for the Times.’

‘What? You’ve just f**king bankrupted London? We’ll have to shut down the fire brigade,’ said the miserable lackey.

‘You girly swots can sort out the detail. I’m having lunch with a young lady on expenses now. Hopefully I’ll get a good helping of muff,’ said Boris with his usual irresistible charm.

Chapter 11

Poised on the brink of No. 10, Boris stood alone in the wilderness. Apart from a tiny band of loyal allies – the Sun, Daily Mail, Times, Telegraph, Daily Express, BBC, and the entire British establishment – he would have to face the might of Jeremy Corbyn alone. 

And yet, he prevailed. By saying he’d get Brexit done. The way he’d always got things done – by overpromising, failing to deliver, and lying about it. Yes, Brexit would be a true Boris moment and his finest hour. 

Victorious, he took a meeting with his permanent secretary on his first day at Downing Street. ‘Well, now that you’re Prime Minister, you’re going to have to knuckle down and do some actual work,’ he joked.

‘Stick it up your arse, bum-boy,’ Boris said, cleverly.

Note to my publisher: I know I said I’d have at least 200 pages done by now, but I couldn’t be arsed and I’m going on another holiday tomorrow. What say you send me another £1 million and I’ll have another three chapters with you by 2023? Knew you’d understand. Boris x.

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Man instantly regrets deciding to piss standing up in bathroom of moving train

AFTER using a train bathroom, a male passenger is bitterly lamenting his decision not to sit down to piss. 

Tom Logan was horrified as, midway through urinating, the train started to rock uncontrollably on an uneven stretch of track, causing him to douse almost every surface in the bathroom in urine.

Describing the incident, the piss-soaked IT worker said: “I’m normally a very accurate pisser, but what happened in there was absolute carnage.

“As I say to my girlfriend whenever she complains about our toilet seat at home: ‘Why would I sit down to piss when I’ve a dick?’ And besides, it’s more fun aiming to try and get all the piss in the bowl, like your very own arcade game.

“No one wants to sit on a train toilet seat because some filthy bastard has always pissed on it, or worse. But I didn’t stand a chance in there, it was like having my dick out on a roller coaster. It’s Southern Rail you should be blaming, not me.”

Fellow passenger Donna Sheridan, who used the bathroom after Logan, said: “Southern Rail has a lot to answer for, but I don’t think even their harshest critic would blame them for this twat somehow filling the toilet’s wastepaper bin with a litre of piss.

“He must have been in his late 40s. How does he still have the power to get wee on the ceiling?”