Tell ye what Boris, the joke really is on you...
It’s a game of oooooh ahh halves
There’s something football could learn from the TV coverage of the cricket in empty grounds.
Because for the cricket, they haven’t added in those fake crowd noises.
It seems daft listening to non-existent fans going “oooooh” because a ball has just gone over the bar. They might as well add in noises for every event.
When they show us the swimming from the Olympics, they could add to the excitement by playing the noise of a whale, and for the athletics they could play in a helicopter gunship so we can imagine they’re trying to run away from the US airforce in Vietnam.
There should be rattlesnakes on the green for the golf, and for the cycling, the noise of a Mexican drugs cartel threatening to blow up the saddle if they don’t get their payment within 24 hours.
Boris Johnson has told some marvellous jokes recently. Firstly, Keir Starmer asked if Johnson had a message for people whose relatives had suffered from coronavirus – and he replied that Starmer had “more briefs than Calvin Klein”.
It’s not only hilarious, but I’m sure it comforted grieving relatives.
Then he responded to Starmer’s questions about the delayed report on Russian interference with our elections, by saying Starmer had “more flip-flops than Bournemouth beach”.
Another glorious joke and one that certainly puts all our minds at ease about Vladimir Putin.
So here are some others he can try, about himself.
If he’s asked how much protective equipment his government provided for medical staff during the pandemic, he can say “We gave them less protection than a chemist’s at the Vatican”.
If he’s asked what happened to the track and tracing he promised would “lead the world”, he can say “It’s had more failed dates than the history of Tinder”.
He can tell us “Dominic Cummings has more implausible stories than Hollyoaks” and “his eyesight needs more checks than a chess tournament”.
He can say “I consumed more coke than Sheffield steelworks” and I have “more kids I’ve forgotten about than an amnesiac goat herder”.
Everyone seems to agree he’s a great speaker, witty and able to communicate clearly in a language we all understand.
For example, there was the inspiring speech he gave to the West Yorkshire Police that began: “Everyone’s learning the caution, you know the caution, you know what you have to say, you do not have to say anything.
“Is that right? Anything you but if you fail to mention something, which you later, hang on, is that right?”
KINDNESS
What is so reassuring about a speech like that is we’re all thinking it, but he’s the only one capable of putting it into words. It’s also a measure of his kindness that when he speaks he also give us a free puzzle, in which we have to try to put the words into an order that makes an actual sentence.
Sometimes he explains ideas with even more clarity by throwing in a chunk of Latin, and some think “that means he MUST be clever”.
We should extend this to everyone. If someone working class says “I tell you what, right, here, listen, you know that wotnot, well ipso facto modus operandi I tell you that for nuffink”, we should all say “what a splendid educated fellow he must be”. But for some reason, it’s when someone’s posh we think they must be clever. If a 19-year-old from a council estate in Glasgow was asked for his thoughts on Russian interference in our democracy, and said “Ah tell ye what pal, ye’ve got meer flipflops than Bournemouth beach”, it’s possible not so many people would think
“he’s so intelligent we should make him Prime Minister”.
So Boris Johnson should finish off his next speech with
“My government has more detached Etonian inhuman bumbling idiots who can’t even concoct a decent alibi than one of
Epstein’s guest lists”.