Thread by @MarkFrancois12

Extracts from the Plague Diary of Mark ne-Francois-Pepys

March 24th

Waked before 4 o'clock with great pain to piss & great pain in pissing by having, I think, drank too great a draught of Monster when playing some serious Call of Duty with Johnny Mercer before going to bed

1/7

But by and by to sleep again. Up and much vexed to note that I’d knocked two rolls of toilet tickets into the chamber pot during my 4am exertions, and upon my morning motion, it gave not near so much satisfaction as the act itself to remark ‘I’m shitting on a gold mine here’

2/7

At noon to skype my Lady Liz Truss who somehow, even after many months, continue to resist my affection, but my hearte did skip a merrie beat when I saw she was wearing a facemask emoji sweatshirt, and supping Nesquicke from a Keep Calm and Watch Tim Henman tankard.

3/7

That she be of such wit in this dark hour be a lesson of note to the patrinots. The afternoon I made inventory of my screenwashes & Top Gear magazines until such a time as my mayde Hartley-Brewer did remind me it was Dolmio day & served Turnip Carbonara with great difficulty

4/7

being as we were at grayte pains to keep 6 feet apart.
After brave discourse with Douglas Carswell on Zoom about Homes under the Hammer, I waited patiently for report of The Johnson’s evening press conference and in scrolling Insta stories was in much disquiet to discover

5/7

via Captain Gove’s feed that the emergencie cabinet had moved to Woburn Centre Parcs. I feare a Corona outbreak in the subtropical swimming paradise could incapacitate the entirety of our leadership in one minibreak & even with Dominic Raab a designated survivor, it put me in
6/7

the vilest temper, alleviated only when Johnson, belike a US President in Act V of a Michael Bay tragedy, finally inclined to the full lockdowne, to protect us all from worse and that being done, to bring it to an end shortly, or in 12 months. Whichever comes first. Peperami. Bed