By Abigail Pennson, our reasonable, plain-speaking middle-class columnist who’s only anti-Semitic against the left-wing ones
WE owe him a formal apology. He dealt in untruths, we claimed. But Boris was nothing compared to the Lord of Deceit seated on his false throne.
Oh, we heard of nothing but Boris’s prevarications when he was in Downing Street. About his lockdown parties, his Brexit promises, about his adulterous liaisons and illegitimate children. As if that mattered.
Such lily-white, blamelessly Caucasian falsehoods are nothing in comparison to Starmer’s cyclone of cock-and-bull, his penile implant of premeditated perjury. In the last week alone, we’ve been lied to more than an ugly child in a Hollywood film.
Need I enumerate them? That he didn’t know Mandelson had failed vetting. That Olly Robbins didn’t tell him. That some other procedural stuff, I didn’t pay attention, there was a great piece about migrants stealing your wheelie bins on GB News.
The prime minister – meant to be the moral backbone of this country, though we’ve been slouching since Thatcher – opened his mouth, and a black torrent of lies flowed out, drowning us all in their mendacity.
When Boris prorogued Parliament it was cheeky fun. Partygate? Hilarious. Dominic Cummings in the Rose Garden? I laughed so hard that wee came out, though that’s menopause.
But this ceaseless barrage of bullshit from Starmer, who last night in eyeblinks alone called my sister a whore and my brother-in-law an overweight pimp, demeans every one of us. Even now he claims he ‘did nothing wrong’, an outright inversion of the truth.
Well, I have it on good authority he’s already resigned but – you guessed it – is lying about it. Our next prime minister? Should be a truth-teller with the candour of Donald Trump himself. People, we could do worse than Boris.
