July 14 11.30pm
Just had an almighty bollocking from Theresa. All Gove’s fault… Theresa overheard him tell Osborne that she wasn’t as sexy as Angela Merkel… she went ballistic… sacked him on the spot… which is fine but then she starts to take it out on me.
“Why are you such an idiot Boris,” she said.
“I’m an idiot? You’re the one who appointed me,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
Seems my appointment as FS hasn’t gone down well…
The French Foreign Minister called me a liar, the Germans say I’m irresponsible, Dutch and Swedish thought my appointment was a joke and Obama’s spokesman burst out laughing when he heard the news. Well, he won’t be laughing when I’m over there negotiating with President Trump in a few months’ time and Obama’s back working in the car wash… blond boy power!
Anyway Theresa thinks this all reflects badly on her. She called me into Number 10 to read the riot act.
“I’m trying to form a fucking government here and yet I have to deal with upper class, old Etonian, self-seeking bumbling buffoons like you who think you have God given right to govern even though you don’t have a brain cell to your name and couldn’t run a sweet shop.”
I was shocked. For a vicar’s daughter like Theresa to use the f word meant she must be quite miffed. I gave her my best repentant naughty boy smile and said I’d turn over a new leaf show her how good I could be.
She just sighed and called me a f***ing moron. Then she fixed me with that steely gaze and said: “Listen you halfwit, I would rather have appointed a retarded toad than you as FS, but you got us into this Brexit nightmare so you can get us out of it. If you succeed, I will take the credit; if you fail, you will take the blame. Understand?”
“A more than generous offer,” I said, showing her what a tough negotiator I’ll be with Johnny Foreigner over the EU. She just sighed and stormed off.
Looking back I have to say I totally disagree with Gove… Theresa is strangely attractive when she’s angry and it’s obvious that she really likes me. I think I could be in there if I play my cards right.
July 14 – Rough as a badger’s arse this morning… just woken up. What was I drinking last night? What was I celebrating? Vague recollection of being in Number 10.