IT’S NOT MY BLOODY SPROG : Boris Johnson is not one to be accused of failing to plan or prepare. Even now, as he exhorts the United Kingdom to shaft itself with his idea of Brexit, he is planning for how to cope with the aftermath. In a purely personal capacity of course.
“When it all goes tits up and our bum is in the air I’ll tell them it wasn’t my idea,” Mr Johnson is believed to have whispered into the ear of a willing, if foolish, young filly, “then I’ll promise to call them to see how they’re going before getting out of Blighty!”
The plan, which involves a cast of wide eyed Tory stooges, is to identify key members of parliament who sabotaged what would otherwise have been a Titanic success.
“Clearly Ms May is to blame, if only she’d believed in Britain,” Mr Johnson is preparing to say, “she handed me a stick covered in poop and I did the best I could with it.”
But don’t think the EU will escape his ire either, when Brexit ends in humiliation and failure.
“If only old Barnier had been a friend to us,” Mr Johnson will sigh, “the intransigence of the EU is to blame. We could have found a solution to the Irish Border problem if they’d just believed hard enough, rather than trying to punish us.”
What Britannia herself will be doing, barefoot in the kitchen, screeching baby Brexit in her arms, is anyone’s guess.
“Don’t call me. It’s not my baby,” Boris will say, as he waves her goodbye and begins a new life in the United States, “I only shafted the entire country.”