Boris Johnson - My Fake Diary

Saturday, 6 September 2008

Blimey! I've been at this Mayor lark for at least three months now and I can't understand why I haven't been rumbled. It might be that those little pink pills sent by Central Office are working, because try as I might, I can't remeber saying anything yet that's made me look a total dick.

Most observers thought, and indeed so did I, that I was bound to have opened my cake-hole and pissed off the Scousers or the Geordies by gloating about how fabulous London is and how shite they are, what with all those slags and petty criminals they have up there - but no, I've been a good lad and fuck 'em all. They'll just have to go on with all their petty crime and lump it. I'm certainly not about to give them an excuse for garnering any sympathy from the decent hard-working Southern folk.

I'm geeting a bit fed up though as I can't do Have I Got News For You any more and it's becoming a tad tedious having to be sensible all the bloomin' time. Sometimes I wish old Newt Face had won and I could have carried on being a total arsehole. But hey-ho.


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