PIERS MORGAN: DELICIOUSLY INDISCREET
TUESDAY, MAY 16
Susanna Reid and I filmed a promo outside 10 Downing Street for our special post-election Good Morning Britain show on June 9.
‘I’m afraid you can’t start yet because there’s a Cabinet meeting about to break up,’ said a policeman when we arrived.
‘This could be fun,’ I said to Susanna, as we stood where the press pack normally resides.
‘Morning, Mr Davis!’ I shouted as Brexit minister David Davis suddenly emerged at speed and darted down the road. He completely ignored me. ‘How rude,’ I exclaimed, indignantly. ‘Not really,’ sighed Susanna, ‘it’s Michael Fallon.’
Minutes later, Boris Johnson bounded out of the famous black door like a hyperactive labrador.
‘Quick chat, Foreign Secretary?’ shouted Susanna.
He looked over, screwed up his eyes in disbelief, and then burst out laughing.
‘Come on, Boris, you know you want to.’ I urged.
‘No chance, Morgan. I have vital campaigning to do!’ he chortled back. ‘Wouldn’t it be safer not to?’ I suggested. We did our promo, and then I asked the very helpful policeman one last question of huge national importance.
‘Have you ever actually seen Philip May put the bins out?’ He grinned. ‘I have to be honest, no!’ Later, I enjoyed a delightful lunch with Holly Willoughby at Scott’s restaurant in Mayfair.
We discussed everything from my recent controversial GMB debates over women’s marches, mental health and gender neutrality to Princess Diana, Donald Trump and Arsene Wenger (her husband Dan’s a diehard Gooner like me).
Afterwards, as we shared a taxi back to our homes, Holly posted a photo of us on her various social-media platforms with the caption: ‘Lovely afternoon with Piers Morgan. Thank you for a wonderful lunch. X.’
Within seconds, all hell broke loose as her millennial fans reacted angrily to the news.
‘Oh Hols,’ wrote one, summing up the general mood. ‘I love you but really?! How disappointing.’
Others furiously questioned her intelligence, soul and sanity. ‘Feck! Is this normal?’ she texted me. ‘You’re the Mother Teresa of TV and I’m the Devil Incarnate,’ I explained.
‘This is my personal favourite,’ she said, enclosing a screenshot of a message on her Instagram, saying: ‘Big t**s meets a f***ing massive t**.’
WEDNESDAY, MAY 17
Boris Johnson went to a Sikh temple today and delightedly promised the audience that a Tory government would end tariffs on India’s imports of British whisky. There was first stunned silence, then absolute outrage.
Drinking is forbidden under many Sikh teachings, and especially in temples.
Oh Boris, I did try to warn you…
THURSDAY, MAY 18
When I was a teen, my favourite band was punk/mod icons The Jam.
I was at their 1982 farewell concert in Brighton, and even today I still work out to Going Underground when I want to get my day off to an anarchic start.
Lead singer Paul Weller was everything I wanted to be: a snarling, spitting, savage, anti-Establishment rebel.
Sadly, Mr Weller’s view of me isn’t quite so admiring. In an interview with Q Magazine, he was asked if he’d ever appear on my Life Stories show.
‘You get asked to do s*** like that,’ he responded. ‘But I’m not going to go on that show. Talk to that **** ? You’re joking me. I don’t do that stuff. It’s very, very unhip from where I come from.’ Weller was born in Woking, Surrey. I was born in Guildford, precisely 6.9 miles away. Mate, we’re from the same ’hood.
FRIDAY, MAY 19
Still reeling from my childhood hero’s snub, the GMB team forwarded an email from Location, Location, Location star Kirstie Allsopp.
‘I’d love to do GMB,’ she wrote, ‘I’m a big fan of the show. As you probably guessed I, like Ewan McGregor, couldn’t sit alongside Piers Morgan on the sofa. I remain hopeful that at some point soon GMB will recognise the error of its ways and see the damage caused by Morgan’s bigoted and antagonistic attitudes. It’s very sad for Susanna that she has to work with him. I realise that with a family to support it is hard for her to take a moral stand against Piers’s involvement with the show. I look forward to finding a suitable Thursday or Friday slot. Kind regards, Kirstie.’
It was only my long-time friend’s small, crying, laughing emoji after her name that gave the game away…
SATURDAY, MAY 20
This column began with 10 Downing Street, and it will end with it.
A new survey asked Brits to say which celebrity they would like to become Prime Minister of the UK from a list of ten names: David Attenborough, JK Rowling, Emma Watson, Louis Theroux, James Dyson, Ian McKellen, Jeremy Clarkson, Rowan Atkinson, Katie Hopkins – and me.
In the initial vote, David Attenborough won and I came a creditable joint fourth with eight per cent of the vote. But the poll kept running on The Scotsman newspaper’s website, and I later roared into the lead with 36 per cent to David’s 12 per cent.
Meanwhile, those PC-crazed, snowflake luvvies Rowling and Watson gained a derisory six per cent and four per cent respectively.
In light of this, I am now obviously ‘consulting with friends and family’ with a view to throwing my hat into the political arena.
Before you scoff, let me remind you that I won Celebrity Apprentice USA, and the guy who chose me is now President of the US.