Johnson and the Farragonauts

Johnson is sent away as a child to be educated by the wise centaur Eton (a centaur is a fabulous creature, half horse, half complete arse) who hides him away and raises him on the Mountains of Spondulix.

When Johnson turns fifty-five he journeys to The Tory Lands to claim his throne. At a nearby river, Margaret, the Queen of the Tories, approaches Johnson disguised as an old woman not for turning. While carrying her across the river, Johnson loses his comb and arrives at Number 10 with his hair a mess. The Tories are nervous when they see Johnson in this state, for an oracle had prophesied that a shag-haired clown shall usurp the throne.

Johnson demands his rightful place. The Tories reply that Johnson should first accomplish a difficult task to prove his worth. The task is to retrieve the Blatant Fleece, kept beyond the edge of the logical world on the Isle of Brexis.

The story of the Blatant Fleece is an interesting tale in itself. Murdoch, King of the Gods, had given a golden promise to Johnson’s ancestor Camoron. Camoron later flew on the golden promise to the Isle of Brexis, whose king was called Hateful, son of Poison and Media. Hateful sacrificed the promise and hung its Blatant Fleece in a sacred grove guarded by a dreadful, racist dragon called Enoch, as an oracle had foretold that Hateful would lose his kingdom if anyone got close enough to see the Blatant Fleece was actually not all that.

Determined to reclaim his throne, Johnson agrees to retrieve the Blatant Fleece. Johnson assembles a team of absolutely useless heroes for his crew, and they sail aboard the Farrago for Brexis.

The journey takes forever (feels like). The heroes have many opportunities and basically fuck them all up, including The Clashing Rocks of The Bleeding Obvious (each rock emblazoned with a made-up statistic); Barnier Bear Island; The Land of Europe, where bananas are straight and the rulers are not; Nigel and the Harpies; The Invisible Covid Parties; The Sirens (who try to lure Johnson onto the rocks by waving bundles of cash), and a terrifying robot called Starmus, who they eventually defeat by unscrewing a bolt in his ankle and letting out all his charisma.

Finally, Johnson parks the Farrago at the Isle of Brexis and asks Hateful for the Blatant Fleece as it belonged to his ancestor, Camoron.

Hateful knows that as soon as Johnson touches the Fleece all the paint will come off. So he comes up with another challenge. Johnson must first plough his cabinet, then sow it with the teeth of the Enoch. However, Media has taken a liking to Johnson. She gives him magical powers, and with her help he manages to slay Enoch, pull out his teeth and sow them in the vacant cabinet seats. Soon there grows a dreadful army of racist politicians, any one of which might rat on Johnson and bring him down. But Media had already briefed Johnson, who cast stones in news interviews that led them to turn on each other in confusion.

Johnson takes the Blatant Fleece, marries Media and together they go back to The Tory Lands to claim Camoron’s throne. But the people have finally realised the wool is being pulled over their eyes. So Johnson and Media are driven out of The Tory Lands – now renamed The People’s Lands – and they retire to the Mountains of Spondulix, where Johnson marries someone else, Media is slain by poor sales figures, and Johnson tries to make money by touring a jukebox musical called Fleece a Jolly Good Fellow! – but gets flattened by the reviews.


Johnson on and on

Tell me – how do you like your Premier?
that arse-scratching bandersnatch over there?

that, my friend, is Boris Johnson
the UK’s very own political toxin

patron saint of rabid self-interest
more deep fakes than Pinterest

clinically averse to telling the truth
his priest says they’re gonna need a bigger booth

ill-repute in a savile row suit
morals of a garbage chute

the Tory anointed prophet of loss
the Eton mess who couldn’t give a toss

the archangel of shameless
synthetically blameless

authentic as a Cosplay Churchill
sexed-up as a Viagra’d gerbil

thicker sliced than Wonderbread
big fat kickbacks, big fat head

wallet lifting, pocket patting
only the bible has more begatting

articulate as a wet fart in a wind tunnel
a face you instinctively want to pummel

but still – unaccountably – keeper of this zoo
where the animals are howling and look like you

a miscellany of tory dinosaurs

Thick hide
nothing much inside
except poorly digested ratings
talks about great things
does nothing
too busy stuffing
itself with slogans and crap
one eye on the bank account one on the map
often in a flap
never around to take the rap
stomps and chomps
around the swamp
its hair
in a tousled flop
for all the world like a comedy prop
okay stop
it’s too depressing
at this point a meteor would be quite refreshing

Unfeasibly tall
no discernible heart at all
the haughtiest of the sauropods
still around despite the odds

The opposite of delightful
its sharp teeth frightful
carnivorous to the point of spiteful
in summary: brutal
resistance is futile
(at least – that’s what it WANTS you to think
dropping its g’s and dressing in pink
but actually
it’s factually
wide of the mark
the laughing stock of Jurassic Park)

status update XXIII

Click your heels three times my Priti / fly with your monkeys to the Emerald City / where the yellow road’s turned all brown and shitty / where Boris is the Wizard and his little dog’s Toto / and the cliff’s gleam white somewhere over the rainbow / where John Bull splits his Union Jack pants / and Britannia’s broke and forced to dance / for clubs and cabals of junk bond investors / CEOs and company directors / whacked out on coke and artisanal gin / laughing and stuffing fifties in her string

Hello! / you join us at the bougie home / of the right dishonourable Priti Patel don’t you know / minister of spin and propaganda / sipping ice tea on her lovely veranda / waving at the planes flying out to Rwanda / Hi – it’s LOVELY to see ya / and if you’re fleeing persecution I wouldn’t wanna be ya / let me give you some usable quotes / migrants means compliance and boats mean votes / you must always use the correct form if you can get one / and use the right channel and I don’t mean the wet one / but golly – listen to me pretty prattle / here’s my sabre – let’s give it a rattle

austerity astrology

Pioneering and courageous / you love to share your outrageous / personality / and vivacious company / with the rest of us / girl? you’re the best of us
(under normal circumstances / but with Boris I’m sorry but I don’t rate your chances)

Determined and loyal / your practical approach is the oil / we need / to keep society up to speed / and speaking honestly? / the other star signs rely on you constantly
(it’s usually that way / but you’ll need to find extra credit today)

Sharp and sexy / you handle issues of startling complexity / with your fleet & soulful duality / smart and adaptable / phenomenally compatible
(in happier times / now you’re running county lines)

Emotional & receptive / your hard shell can be deceptive / in fact you’re a natural source of electricity / and although you value domesticity / you can still find room for eccentricity
(in the past / before your bills got quite so vast)

Enthusiastic, emphatic / a flair for the dramatic / you live life to the marvellous max / oriented to the bad boy side of the tracks / in Burberry glasses & Gucci slacks
(these days you’re a little more off-the-rack / the queue for Primark’s round the back )

A perfectionist with a heart of gold / your loyal spirit is a joy to behold / standing your ground / bringing order to the chaos all around
(or did, formerly / up until Sunak’s Spring statement, unfortunately)

Social & diplomatic / you have a fearless drive towards the democratic / seeing the positive not the negative / balanced, empathetic, deeply sensitive
(these days you need a little more luck / with the Tories in power your scales are fucked)

Passionate & cunning / sometimes you’re a little ‘all or nothing’ / but your joie de vie will enliven the situation / and win you oodles of adoration
(what can I say? / I’m afraid the food bank’s closed on Wednesdays )

You’re wild and impulsive and refuse to be boxed / laughing your way free of the toughest locks / and although you lack focus some of the time / your beautiful dreams are always sublime!
(until Brexit / when we all got thrown headfirst through the exit)

A reserved and patient goat you may be / but that’s why you’re the leading lady! / hardworking, resilient / never less than brilliant / and although you’re last to hear any rumour / you’re blessed with a mordant sense of humour
(so here’s a thing to make you laugh / the room’s so cold you’re sat in your scarf)

One of a kind / you totally know your own mind / hungry for knowledge, socially inventive / the pursuit of wisdom your soul’s incentive
(but if you didn’t go to Eton / you may as well accept you’re beaten)

You swim upstream, emotionally intuitive / your skill and your instincts frequently lucrative / and even though you take on too much / you don’t care how hard you work and such
(which is just as well / because I hear there are vacancies at the local motel)

evolution of a party animal

I’m assured that guidance was followed at all times
and if it wasn’t those people will pay for their crimes

I’m as sick as you to see footage of Allegra
she’s a friend of Carrie’s really and I can’t bear her

I MAY have been to a party but if I did I didn’t know it
apart from the email, the DJ, the booze and the party food there was no real sign to show it

I can’t comment further as the police enquiries unravel
but anyway, Keir Starmer likes Jimmy Saville

The fines are coming in but whatever – I remain
using whatever cover I can find and oh look – Ukraine

La Lista Cabinista

Pasta boris putinesca:
corrupted with unsavoury sauce
served supine with
bunga bunga rolls & hand-pressed oligarchs

Cannelloni rishi sunacci
half baked in a mega rich ragu
served sincerely with
a faux, instaready salad

Gnocchi di mogg
deathly dumplings in a cruel victorian gravy
served drab in
a grudge of brexity grits

Ravioli di raab
pillows of pointlessness
served blank in
a thick, regretful roux

Rigatoni con la patel
cold tubes of bureaucracy
served harsh with
a terrine of lifejackets & channel water

Fettuccine dorries
wretched strands of confusion
served wild in
a stagger of embarrassing relish

Lasagna alla truss
layers of contact sheets marinaded in self-regard
served pert
with a selection of hats

Spaghetti alla shapps
a tangle of bland
served P&O
on a plate

rue britannia

Liz? Rishi?
time for a quickie?
it’s your pay-per-view paparazzi
danke schon and mille grazie
try to look busy
we’ll be done in a jiffy
– LOVE what you’ve done to your cave in the city


corporate lawyers in power showers / soap themselves in the early hours / practising smiles and Bonnie Tyler ballads / dreaming of oligarchs and caesar salads

quick! johnson’s smiling so make your obeisance
he thanks you most affably for your patience
the money transferred without complications
so he’ll expedite your applications
actore non probante reus absolvitur
now DO fuck off and DON’T slam the door

holy shit n’guacamole!
where’s my cake so I can have it and eat it slowly?
in the favourite T I’ve had from new
the meek shall inherit the earth / if that’s alright with the rest of you

I’m new here
I just wanted to pass through here
I didn’t know you were supposed to queue here
isn’t this Dover?
the place where all the boats cross over?

whaddya mean, failure to launch?
more like a failure to lunch
sit the fuck down and blow the conch

But wait – here comes… MOGG
he’s written a frightfully elegant blog
the trick behind assets, bricks and mortar
is holding the stick and throwing the dog in the water

All rise:

Rue Britannia! Britannia rues the waves / Old Money never, never, never shall acknowledge the vast sums that were made from slavery / Hmm / almost there / the rhythm’s off but the meaning’s there / maybe the whole thing needs rewriting / it’s too downbeat, unexciting / we need something happy with a snappy refrain / we can sing together as we circle the drain