Mar 27th 2020,
9 tweets,
2 min read
Extracts from the plague diary of Mark ne-Francois-Pepys
March 27th
Up from a nightmare wherein the liberal elite had made me eat smashed avocados on rye, and promptly vomited into the already overflowing chamber pot.
1/8
March 27th
Up from a nightmare wherein the liberal elite had made me eat smashed avocados on rye, and promptly vomited into the already overflowing chamber pot.
1/8
Took a draught of Monster by my bed, but the liquid now an emetic since I stubbed Lambert and Butler in it, produced further vomellete. Upon Hartley-Brewer’s discharging of my Sugar Puffs & Monster in a most displeasing manner I did lose my temper & state not uncertainly,
2/8
2/8
that I did like the lockdowne as little as she, but we needs accept it because I could get Carole Malone in to do the same work for half the money. She confessed her desperation to venture forth and prate, and I suggested to shave her eyebrows off, may remedy this desire.
3/8
3/8
To my study with Bovril filled hotwater bottle and hear newes that itinerant suction tycoon Lord Dyson is commissioned to build plague ventilators by re-purposing his hoovers to blowe the other way. Rumour of other companies offering similar assistance to The Johnson
4/8
4/8
at an earlier date, but Dyson being a prominent Leavehead won, and assured by David Davis on Whatsapp that his machines have an extra sovereignty valve which at 120 PSI (Patrotism per square inch) makes it more likely to revive a Corvid-19 sufferer.
5/8
5/8
Increasingly heavy of bollock, my mind turned to Lady Liz Truss, that wooing might continue on Zoom. She answered in most fetching Lady Diana pullover & sea kelp facemask, but engaged not in my discourse & on asking if she ere received the Canal no. 5 perfume I sent, hung up
6/8
6/8
At 8pm out of doors and clapped for the healthe service, & did get into competition with my neighbour Thornberry at whom could clap loudest and longest, which went on for thirty minutes until our neighbours called the Alderman to tell us to quiet.
7/8
7/8
That did not stop me returning to the patio at 10pm to leave pork pie for the unknown solider & play the Last Post on my harmonica. For patriotism knows no borders and I am Britain’s Leading Patriot and I explained as much when the Alderman returned and cautioned me. Bed.
8/8
8/8
