Boris for President!

I read a story in the press about a man called Troy Buswell who, unsurprisingly, is an Australian politician has got into trouble for sniffing a seat that a female employee had been sitting on. What a fool. As my old friend Max Moseley could have told him. There are women who will do that sort of thing for you for a reasonable price and only some of them will sell their stories to the papers.

I am glad to say, however, that he is sticking to his guns and refusing to stand down. Just right. He can learn from our own newly elected Mayor of London, the upstanding Boris Johnson. Proof if it were needed that being the victim of press intrusion into ones marital indiscretions should not spell the end of ones career. Of course BoJo (we can't use his initials as a nickname, obviously!) wasn't up to anything weird like Max or the Australian, although those of you who have seen a photograph of his mistress Petronella Wyatt may disagree! But it has restored my faith in Britain. Only in this great country could an oaf with no discernible talent and burdened by a private education rise to such high office. If only somebody would give the young chap a bloody good haircut, although a bloody awful one would be an improvement.