This is a celebratory fire.
To all the health and safety namby pambies out there, Andrew Bridgen is holding the crowds back with a supersoaker.
If you look closely, Brandon Lewis is being held aloft by a band of Orangemen on a spinny office chair.
It's like when the Ewoks think C3PO is a God in Return of the Jedi.
Johnny Mad Dog Adair is currently giving Liz Truss a tour of the facility (bath) where his boys make Hand of Ulster Es. She is close to signing a trade deal.
Mad Pup is out on BMXs with Hancock.
That is everything at the moment.

Will update later if anything transpires from Rees-Mogg's drive down the Shankhill Road in his pope-mobile.

• • •

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More from @mikegove12

1 Apr
Iagove reflects:

"Thus do we ever make you fools our purse:
For Tories own gain'd knowledge should profane,
If we would time expend with plebians.
But for my sport and profit. I hate you all:

And it is thought abroad, our sick elites
Are but leeching sophists: I know that it be true;
For I know men of Eton in that kind,
Who never parted puberty. They hold you low;
The better shall their purpose work on you.
Boris’s a shag-worn man: let me see now:
To get his place and to plume up my will
In double knavery--How, how? Let's see --
After some time, to abuse politicos’ ears
That he is too familiar with their lives.
He hath a hundred thousand dead disposed;
Would they reflect it?
Read 4 tweets
23 Feb

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of rotting daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Browning and dying in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Shrivelled there dead in flyblown dance.
Flag wavers with them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling Brexit glee:
A Leaver could not but be gay,
In such festering company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
Read 4 tweets
7 Jan
My interview with Donald Trump. A memory:

When I arrived in his office he pointed at a small pile of cocaine on his desk. I was horrified. A British guest should never impose like that.

"No thanks, I've brought my own." I said.
He grabbed my crotch.

"So, is that a B17 in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me Jeff?"

"Mike." I corrected. "And its an erection." You could feel the electricity in the room.

Not wanting to be too forward but fully aware the special relationship needed maintaining,
I asked if I could massage his shoulders. He agreed.

"Do you think your incessant debasement of standards, associations with racists and paedophiles, and utter unsuitability for presidency, will have a negative effect on American politics?"

He passed me the Kentucky Bourbon
Read 5 tweets
8 Dec 20
A Christmas Carol.

Chapter Two.

A breakfast serialisation by Michael Govern Ready and Charles Dickens.

With artwork by


Read 4 tweets
7 Dec 20
A Christmas Carol.

A breakfast serialisation by Michael Govern Ready and Charles Dickens.

With artwork by @Michelangela75.

1/4 Image
2/4 Image
3/4 Image
Read 6 tweets

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