WHEN DYSLEXIA MEANS DAILY SEX: Illiterate handsy ex minister Matt Hancock is pleading for forgiveness for his sins. Obviously, opting to skive off work, fly to Australia, and submit himself to perform humiliating tasks for our entertainment, is bound to make us sympathetic.
His parliamentary colleagues are lining up to support him, in the only way they know how. By ganging up on him, and block voting for Hancock to perform the most degrading challenges. Kicking him when he’s down. From Hancock to kangaroo cock.
Naturally, the rest of us will be jeering him on. While Hancock may genuinely believe that he will find redemption, the smart money says not. It’s not hard to think of ways that Hancock could display his sorrow, how he could redeem himself, or gain grudging acceptance. But deserting his post (for a large sum of money) and shedding crocodile tears is not one of them.
It’s a jungle out there. As usual, Hancock has tried to read the room. Unfortunately, his devotion to dyslexia means that he got it all horribly wrong. His chosen public penance of ingesting inappropriate foods while being harangued by a camp 80s pop star will not earn him any respect. Ask his predecessor, Nadine Dorries.
The only rumble in the jungle is likely to be from Hancock’s stomach, as it attempts to digest the indigestible. A bit like his adoring public.
Jungles are full of snakes and creepy crawlies. Hancock is crawling, or so he reckons, and is definitely creepy. So that’s a solid three out of three there.
At least there is one final chance of redemption. Should Boris Johnson ever wangle his way back in to Number Ten, Hancock can look forward to a Lordship, which is the traditional reward for making an arse of yourself in public.