They came to him like a herd of hungry dogs at mealtime.
Yup, yap. Nip, nip, nip. Once Her Majesty’s Press Corps has been exposed to scandals, not even a smattering of finesse can dissuade them from the smell.
The pack was shouting loudly at the Prime Minister about the foul smell emanating from Westminster. Boris staggered and stumbled, changing his body weight this and that way.
we were back cop26 Summit Glasgow, apparently to talk about the fight against Climate change, More specifically, how Britain was progressing while less responsible nations were still not doing their job.
Instead, here the prime minister had to assert to a worldwide audience that Britain was ‘not remotely a corrupt country’, but had ‘parliamentary democracy and a very difficult system of inquiry’. In Moscow, Vladimir Putin will be taking a long slug of ice-cold stolichnaya and munching on his sturgeon eggs.
Twice, Boris was given the opportunity to apologize for the terrible mess caused by Owen Patterson’s affair. Twice he refused. Instead, he faced a 22-minute test in which he looked as comfortable as a schoolboy in a hand-knit Guernsey sweater. How nice it would have been if he had come to the Commons on Monday to face the bricklayers.
Stuttering: PM in Glasgow. The pack was thumping the prime minister about the foul smell emanating from Westminster, writes Henry Deeds
Each question began with a polite inquiry about the entire coop business. That’s why we were there, after all. But they were a mere amusing-bouquet before the nitty-gritty. Bouncing off some underarm lobes before leaving to hit Lt Colombo’s shades. ‘Oh, just one more thing…’
ITV’s Robert Peston definitely makes a passable TV gumshoe, doesn’t it? Curly hair – check. Bedraggled clothes – check. A mildly disorienting method capable of penetrating even the coldest of cucumbers—check, check, check. He wondered whether the PM would apologise after the Speaker accused the House of defaming.
The PM unnecessarily created a ruckus. He said that he is very angry with those who break the rules. He put his faith in Labor MP Chris Bryant’s standards committee to drive reform. This is what he expressed zero confidence in last week.
Beth from Sky had to go then. He pulled out his lower jaw and flicked his nostrils. If someone was murmuring nearby, I would have believed that he would have hit the prime minister’s forehead. He thought of MPs ‘putting their work first’.
Did he think all his MPs did it? It was an apparent reference to former Attorney General Sir Geoffrey Cox, as this newspaper discovered this week, for some extra-curricular legal work trotting north of the nine hundred big ones during the pandemic. Gadzook. Who was representing Blighter – OJ Simpson?
Boris changed the cap of his pen with a loud ‘click’. He shrugged his shoulders and waved his arms defensively. “I don’t want to comment on personal matters,” he said.
Twice, Boris was given the opportunity to apologize for the terrible mess caused by Owen Patterson’s affair. Twice he refused. Instead, he faced a 22-minute test in which he looked as comfortable as a schoolboy in a hand-knit Guernsey sweater.
He said, ‘I’m very, very sorry’. Definitely a first for the afternoon. ‘I’ll have to catch a climate-friendly mode of transport to get back to London’
He insisted that those who do not put their constituents first should face ‘reasonable sanctions’. I’m no Russell Grant, but it looked like Sir Loudmouth might soon take on the Chiltern Hundred. He is resigning, to all the non-political idiots out there.
A woman from The Daily Telegraph (of all places!) pressed for an apology again. And then, the PM delivered a side-step worthy of rugby player Gareth Edwards. Even foreign hacks were getting in.
Someone from the agency France-Presse asked whether the prime minister was confident that his own standards would be necessary with any investigation. ‘All my announcements are in line with the rules’, he replied. He invited journalists to see him. I’m sure the idea probably happened.
Moments later, Boris was shaking his face mask back. ‘I’m very, very sorry’, he said. Definitely a first for the afternoon. ‘I have to go back to London and get a climate-friendly mode of transport.’
No private jets this time, in other words. Oh dear. A hot G&T and a moldy West Coast train line sarnie for super from the sound of it. And with that, whoosh! Off he left the stage, around a dog’s track faster than a rabbit.
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