boris is gone ladies and gentlemen. he has upper stumps and retired to the pavilion (and gone home and taken his football with him). in altogether lesser news nadine is gone too (a nation mourns).
they don't do gratitude do they nadine? (not for someone like you)
now if horsemouth were boris he would let the current unpleasantness die down and then find a safe tory seat of brexit fans and contest it as an independent. but (to be frank) it's not like boris needs the money (it is the same with sunak or sir lord snooty - they don't need the money either). being an MP is, on the other hand is reliable pin money and a bit of a sinecure (so why wouldn't you).
it provides the opportunity to get the band back together. (little dominic would be delighted).
the last time horsemouth looked vast numbers of MPs were sitting as independents anyway as a result of being placed by their parties on the naughty step while investigations against them proceeded.
that well known portuguese poet alvaro de campos offers some advice (in translation);
'ah, how refreshing it is when we fail to do our duty!
It’s like being in the countryside!
Unreliability becomes a refuge!
I breathe more easily now that I’ve missed all my appointments...'
crimea river comes from the auto subtitles of owen jones valediction on boris - cry me a river, says a plainly unsympathetic jones. horsemouth supposes he should try the even less sympathetic frankie boyle.
horsemouth has reached saturday. it is a pleasantly cool morning. the week's campaign is over - now the consequences just have to be faced.
horsemouth is only just hearing the alternate version of india by john coltrane now. could this be even better than the take of india on the album? very nearly.
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