Wednesday, September 27

Another day, another great show of elite justice from career liar Boris Johnson | Marina Hyde

TThere were many excruciating parts here in exposing Boris Johnson’s affair with Jennifer Arcuri, cray-cray model, model-bar-infosec-businesswoman (for whom I can’t help but hold a soft spot, even if he’s been completely pilled red these days). One of the worst, however, was when Arcuri found herself, in the eye of the media storm, being Johnson’s ghost. The only time she managed to reach him on her mobile to ask how to handle it, she found herself. being mocked by someone who “pretends to speak with a Chinese accent.” Or rather, “someone”. I can’t believe this someone is involved in more phone-related shit now, but I guess you never meet anyone.

Still, like me, you probably won’t tire of the brilliant First Ministerial Investigator Lord Geidt, whose ability to reconstruct very complex cases like “who paid for this £ 840 roll of wallpaper and why?” highlights him as one of the most fascinating and unconventional detectives of the time. Perhaps he would stop comparing Geidt to Sherlock Holmes, but in the decorative mystery of the Downing Street apartment renovations, his lordship was undoubtedly Ideal Holmes. Only Ideal Holmes could somehow conclude absolutely nothing from the fact that in the same message in which the prime minister asked a huge sum of money from a conservative donor, Johnson was moved to add, seemingly willingly, Grand Exhibition Plan Will Revert. ”. Nor was it due to the fact that in the same message in which the conservative donor told the prime minister that the money was on the way, the prime minister responded – apparently ingratiating – “Thank you for thinking about GE2.”

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This reboot of the Great Show seems to have been something of a pet project for Lord Brownlow, who initially paid £ 112,549 of Johnson’s decorating bills. Less than two months after the aforementioned WhatsApp exchange, according to official ministerial records, Brownlow met – according to official ministerial records – with the then secretary of culture, Oliver Dowden, “to discuss plans for the Great Exhibition 2.0.” Just one of those strange instances of Jungian synchronicity that accompanies this government’s way of doing business, I suppose. Instead, something is happening with the Festival UK brand, and yesterday Downing Street simply refused to say precisely how that event differs from the Great Exhibition 2.

Either way, the entire saga is certainly a great display of the responsibility of the British establishment. After the Election Commission discovered these “accidentally held” WhatsApp messages in its own investigation into the matter, Lord Geidt was forced to reopen his original investigation, but has now concluded once again that career liar Johnson did not have the intent to deceive. Or, to put it strictly procedural, your lordship has made a second dive into the barrel of titties, and she’s still sucking her thumb. The case has been closed via a heavily worded letter: my favorite kind of elite justice. I think all punks have to wonder: did you shoot six sheets of letterhead or just five? I feel lucky. Well, me?

I think most of us would take the risk, let’s face it. In fact, it’s hard not to laugh at the whole concept that Boris Johnson has a “standards advisor”; It’s like finding out that Mark Zuckerberg has a stylist. Or, indeed, a standards advisor. Still, now that the “Great Show” angle is being questioned, you’re probably wondering if Johnson’s corruption czar could reopen the investigation. And you’re probably forgetting that Johnson’s corruption czar is the guy he’s married to. Dido Harding. Take a break. I needed one too.

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As for the Downing Street decorating saga, not dead yet, what can’t be enjoyed in these new glimpses of Johnson trying to appear aesthetically sensitive? In messages to Brownlow, the prime minister explains that the flat is a “small tip.” Strong words, from Uncle Fester’s beloved son and Cousin Itt. Whatever transformation interior designer Lulu Lytle eventually brought to the place, I imagine it’s now enhanced by red wine stains and bits of Stilton stomped on the carpet. Wraps to carry on the back of the sofa: of the model.

Of course, the real driving force behind the remodel was not Johnson but his wife, Carrie. I know you talk about rented dresses and things like that, but your financial position is starting to feel a little “Kate on the streets, Meghan on the 500 thread count sheets.” John Lewis furniture and fixtures would be right on the higher end of what most Brits would feel able to afford and yet I don’t think we’re at John Lewis, Toto anymore.

Speaking of which, I used to think that the only person who wanted to read about the flat Johnson saga was the Chief Justice of the Interior, Nicky Haslam. Sadly though, the previous occupant # 10, Theresa May, has dropped Nicky off my wish list. in the photo at home in this very well equipped landfill. “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, BREAK HER SILENCE, LADY MAY” are not words I expected to write, but here we all are. I desperately, desperately want to hear a defense of the advice from the no-nonsense trendsetter who created it, ideally in a lengthy brochure, but would settle for 3000-word text.

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If not, can the Great UK Show / Festival include some of these outright human displays? We could have an entire pavilion dedicated to chintz chancellors, chisellers and scammers, and we would never have to leave a single street in Westminster to fill it.

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