The fence-sitting Conservative MP's guide to deciding whether Johnson's totally f**ked yet

ARE you a Tory MP trying to work out whether Boris Johnson is f**ked enough for you to hand in a letter of no confidence? Here’s how to decide.

Where is your constituency?

If you’re in a Cotswolds safe seat where people would vote Conservative even if Boris Johnson personally shat in their beds, you can afford to hold off. But if you’re a Red Wall MP who scraped in thanks to Brexit and nothing else, at least look like you’re standing up to the posh Etonian who’s blatantly taking the piss.

How big is your majority?

If it’s chuffing massive, you can do what you want, but if you’re clinging on by a few hundred votes you need to play it carefully. Or throw caution to the wind and see what happens. There are other jobs more fulfilling than being an MP, you know. Oh. You don’t, because you’re a self-important politics obsessive who craves attention but has no obvious showbiz talent. 

Are you desperate for a promotion?

Fancy a go in the cabinet? Now’s your chance, as Johnson is reportedly phoning anyone who’ll listen and promising them a promotion in exchange for their support. Bear in mind your new post will not last very long, and you’ll have to do the morning media round defending Boris trying to shag a Mummy Pig animatronic at Peppa Pig World, or whatever he’s done this time.

Are you scared of the alternative?

Boris is bad, but what if the Tories end up with someone just as inept but without the bullshit charisma to make people vote for them? Liz Truss and Michael Gove are favourites, but do you really want those wankers as your boss? They might get you voted out even quicker than your current one.

Have you got any morals?

Do you genuinely believe poor old Boris is dim enough not to realise when he’s at a party? Then do the right thing and stick by the unobservant chap. However, if you lack morals then bosh your letter in now. You can always retract it later if he clings on. That’s the great thing about politics – you can be completely unprincipled and all the other self-serving bastards won’t judge you for it.

Sign up now to get
The Daily Mash
free Headlines email – every weekday

Which Love Island contestants merit a wank in the shed? A Daily Mail guide

THE Daily Mail’s breathlessly contemptuous coverage of Love Island still answers the key question for its readers: which of the cast are worth a tug in the shed?

Suburban retiree Norman Steele gives his verdict.


An absolutely stunning blonde and definitely worth moving the broken mower for, should she turn up here. She’s deaf and wears implants, but it wouldn’t be a problem, we wouldn’t be talking! If they’re all like her I’ll be ejaculating into the compost bin.

Verdict: Two thumbs up


Former footballer Michael Owen’s daughter, and a lovely-looking young lady of just 19. I’m a bit uncomfortable in this old camping chair, and also uncomfortable because her dad scored against Argentina when he was a year younger, I idolised him, and football and sex don’t mix.

Verdict: It’s a no from me


I’m caught off guard by a picture of a man. And a black man, who are sexier, to boot. Luckily I looked away quickly, so the risk of turning gay is pretty low.

Verdict: N/A


Looks cracking in a bikini. From Wales so I thought she might be simple, but she’s actually a paramedic. If she was doing my prostate check-up I’d be front of the queue every time. Things are definitely hotting up in the shed. I might prop the door with a spade.

Verdict: A real spade-propper


Excellent tits, which as she’s a black girl proves I’m not prejudiced when it comes to bashing the bishop. I’m sure ITV’s done the appropriate background checks and she’s here legally. And arguably I’m not in a position to pick and choose when I’ve got my pants round my ankles and one foot through a hosepipe.

Verdict: I’m not racist


Nice arse and she’s got a bit of meat on her, which is good. Apparently Amber doesn’t like flashy guys. You’ve come to the right place, Amber. I’m having a wank in a damp shed full of old bikes.

Verdict: She’s not picky


Bugger. I was on the last strokes and heading back to Tasha when the paper fell open on this six-packed cretin from Newport, just as the inevitable happened. The shame. Oh God, the shame. When I was reading the Mail later there was a look in Richard Littlejohn’s eye saying ‘I know what you did, nancy boy’.

Verdict: It was a mistake