This morning coming in to work I saw Boris Johnson at Euston Square station! That wild yellow hair is so distinctive. My first instinct was to cat-call him somehow, but I restrained it, which I’m glad of. He looked so vulnerable there – surrounded by largely-liberal Londoners, a few of whom were goggling and wondering if it was him. Maybe if I’d thought more, I would have asked for a selfie!
But if had cat-called him, what would I say? Probably something about whether his fantasy dream of Brexit is coming true. Close your eyes and wish upon a star, Boris. If you just believe hard enough…
Something on that order.