Digested Week: Boris Johnson stumbled upon a much-needed work event John Cress


It is the sheer irregularity that crushes you. On Christmas day, my wife and I were crossing our fingers congratulating ourselves that everything went according to plan. Our daughter Anna and her husband Robert managed to escape the Omicron variant in the US – both were triple-waxed – and were able to fly to the UK. And our son, Robbie, and his girlfriend, Laila, also managed to get their boosters, escape from Covid, and stay with us from Brighton. So for the first time in over two years we were together as a family.

On Boxing Day, Anna woke up with a sore throat and a headache. She took a lateral flow test which became clear so we all sat down together. The next morning he still felt Ropi but LFT came negative again so he and Robert went to visit friends while Robbie and Laila returned home. It wasn’t until the morning of December 28 that she found the scary two red lines and went to Ecloson. At what point did the rest of us assume that we were bound to get Kovid? Only we never did. At least not then. Laila got cowardly on New Year’s Day and Robert tested positive last night, shortly after she and Anna returned to Minneapolis. Robbie got coveted today. The second time. Which stopped Jill and me from getting the virus. So far we both do not know why we have run away. Whether we know it or not – not possible at Christmas because we both have regular LFTs, are immune, or incredibly lucky. Maybe just lucky. We try to come up with something out of the ordinary, but it is not enough.


When I took over as the political sketch writer of this paper eight years ago, my biggest concern was whether I would ever be able to fill the void left by my predecessor. Simon Hoggart, Who died in January 2014. Simon was a brilliant and shrewd writer who had been making fun of politicians for over 20 years and it was extremely difficult to follow him. Reading the bottom-of-the-line comments on the sketch and often reading the decision “Cress is no hoggart” reminds me of the most intense frustration of the first year. But one of my quickest decisions was to retire the absurd Tory MP Michael Fabricent from the sketch. Fabricant – or Micky Fab of the glorious Talking Hair – has long been one of Simon’s personal favorites, and it was a fitting tribute to his presence in print.

Micky Fab volunteers to defend Boris Johnson’s party lifestyle. Photo: BBC News

It was an unexpected whiplash decision. After a year or so of sketching, an MP tapped me on the shoulder. “Are you John Cress?” He asked. I confirmed. “Okay,” he continued. “Michael Fabricant is very worried. He wants to know when he will be in the next sketch.” “Never,” I replied. I just can’t live up to my word, because today Fabricant did such a ridiculous thing that I can no longer ignore him. , Actively and voluntarily. Initially, he declared that it was not a party but a group of colleagues who appeared to be a party: then he said that they deserved to break the rules because they were working so hard. Unlike doctors and nurses … It was a silly fantasy and deserved a paragraph in a sketch. That, Simon, was for you.


Boris Johnson Talks To Students In A Math Class As He Visits The Oakwood School Constituency In Uxbridge, England.
Student to Johnson at school: ‘Write 100 times. “I shouldn’t lie to everyone again.” Photo: Leon Neil / Getty

After a few days of sleep, Boris Johnson was taken out into the open to attend to the PM’s questions and was eventually forced to surrender. An explanation Why did he attend the Downing Street party on May 20, 2020? At first he apologized half-heartedly, sincerely, for any wrongdoing. Not for breaking the law and lying to both the parliament and the country. Then he went into the details of the party. Or rather the party that was not the party. We were asked to believe that Johnson was one of the stupidest men alive, and more than 18 months later he failed to remember that he was at the party until he became aware of the leak in the press. Here was the sequence of events. He must not have read the official email inviting everyone to the party at number 10 – why worry about anything he sent his chief private secretary? – And the “we” in the invitation did not in any way suggest that it may have come from the Prime Minister. Then, incidentally, he fell to the ground where the party was taking place. Once there he did a double-take and thought it was an “action show”. After all, it was common to find sausage rolls and trawl tables full of wine in the garden, and people to get angry at work events. His wife had also arrived with two friends, which strengthened his belief that it was a work program. The next day there were complaints from some administrative staff that vacancies had to be vacated from flower beds. What’s scary is that his cabinet – with the exception of Sage Sunak – is just as dim because he seems so comfortable with such outspoken speakers. No. 10 was a special case, they said, because it was a home and an office. Well, my mother’s care house is the same and there was no party.


If one definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results, I’m clearly not insane. Or am I a special kind of lunatic? Because every time I went to see Spurs this season, I thought about what kind of game I was going to see, but I went along anyway. It was against Chelsea in the two-leg semi-final last week and yesterday Carabao Cup Is a case in point. I knew Tottenham were outclassing and the only real variable was how much they would lose, yet I had the feeling of satisfaction at feeling my worst fears and the pain of another vague performance. I still don’t understand, though, how the Spurs got so bad so quickly. We haven’t won anything since we reached the Champions League final, but a few years ago we were playing exciting football which was great to watch. Even if we lose, we give a good game to most of the teams. Now, though, despite the manager’s three changes – or perhaps because – we’re a team fighting the League One opposition. The wings have been shown solely to give a sense of proportion. The wings have been shown solely to give a sense of proportion. Our defenders can barely recognize each other, our midfield can’t control the ball, let it pass, and if they score a goal no one is more surprised than our attack.

Every player we buy has been disappointing, worse than the footballers in line to replace them. It’s like turning all the Spurs into good players who can manage at the moment. What’s more, it’s also getting Matthew with whom I go to almost all sports. On Wednesday I begged him to let us go 10 minutes before the end because Spurs needed three goals to take the game to the penalty spot. Matthew denied – he’s old school and never leaves before the final whistle – although he said we could stop the players from clapping from the pitch. Great moment for him. We are going together against Arsenal on Sunday in the North London Derby, and I am sure Spurs will disappoint me again. I will report back.


I’m pretty sure that if I woke up in a hospital in Australia after a massive car accident with a loss of memory, my first tendency would not be to discharge myself the moment I could walk again. I’m guessing I’m more worried about who I am, what I’m doing somewhere, and how I’m going to find my way around a foreign environment I don’t remember. I can imagine how to walk without money or car. I remembered what money and car are. So if I had been the main Amnesia character – The Man – played by Jamie Dornan Tourists, The BBC’s six-part thriller, and sat down to talk sensibly, I was topped by a 6-foot-6 Texan wearing a cowboy hat and shoes who came to the hospital looking for me a few moments after the man thought he was leaving. .

There, again, man was not the only person with amnesia. No one in the hospital noticed him speaking in Irish accent when everyone in Australia was Australian except for the big American. They could use it to try to get to know him. Police have not shown any interest in searching for the tire track in the dust and debris on the road where the giant truck swiped the man’s car sideways. And these were just some of the inconsistencies in the first episode. But none of them were happy. Harry and Jack Williams seem to have spent Field Day writing the scripts: almost as if they were conditioned to think of more outrageous and shocking scenarios and only then did they try to figure out how to put shoes on the plot line. All this is done with a light touch and easily caught. We’ve got it all sorted out within a week and I doubt we’ll see a good thriller all year. The trick is to follow someone’s example and not ask too many questions.

Digested week, digested: There was no party.

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