A Response to Boris Johnson in The Mail

Ah, Boris Johnson. Like That Persistent Bit Of Dog shit You Can’t Quite Scrape Off Your Shoe, Here You Are Again!

Dear Boris,

Ah, Boris Johnson. Like that persistent bit of dog shit you can’t quite scrape off your shoe, here you are again, stinking up the place with your over-inflated sense of importance and your shameless hypocrisy. Your recent tirade against Rachel Reeves and Labour was a dazzling display of chutzpah, even for you. It’s almost admirable how you can point fingers at others while ignoring the manure pile you left behind in Downing Street.

But let’s get into it, shall we?

Trust: The Thing You Couldn’t Spell, Let Alone Uphold

Trust is the cornerstone of your argument? Really? From the man who turned Downing Street into a lockdown rave hotspot? Boris, you lecturing on trust is like King Herod running a babysitting service.

You wax poetic about trust in the government and markets, as if you didn’t personally throw both into chaos. Under your watch, the UK became a global laughingstock—a nation whose Prime Minister partied through a pandemic, lied to Parliament, and burned bridges faster than Liz Truss burns through economic credibility. And let’s not forget the trust you inspired in the markets during your tenure: gilt yields didn’t just rise; they practically moonwalked into the stratosphere thanks to your Brexit “deal.”

Rachel Reeves: Smarter Than You and That’s the Problem

“Rachel from Accounts”? Oh, Boris, how clever. Reduce a highly qualified economist to a condescending caricature. That’s the kind of misogynistic claptrap we’ve come to expect from a man whose understanding of women appears to start and end with, “Do you want to see my Latin poetry?”

Reeves has credentials you could only dream of—Oxford, the Bank of England, and an actual understanding of economics. Meanwhile, your idea of fiscal policy involved spaffing public money up the wall on vanity projects like the Garden Bridge and a water cannon you couldn’t even legally use. You’re less “fiscal genius” and more “man who writes IOUs on pub napkins.”

Fastest-Growing Economy? Pull the Other One

You claim Labour inherited the fastest-growing economy in the G7. What you fail to mention is that this “growth” came after one of the worst economic contractions in British history—a contraction you and your merry band of Brexit zealots helped orchestrate.

And speaking of Brexit, how’s that working out for us? Sovereignty’s great until it means lorries queuing at Dover, businesses drowning in red tape, and farmers dumping rotting produce because your government didn’t bother to plan for labour shortages. If this is your definition of success, Boris, I’d hate to see failure.

Pol Pot Comparisons? Oh, Do Grow Up

Pol Pot-style levelling down? Come off it, Boris. Comparing Labour’s tax policy to genocide is grotesque even by your standards. Adding VAT to private school fees isn’t a war crime; it’s a modest attempt to make the education system slightly less of a playground for the super-rich.

And let’s talk about those schools you’re so keen to defend. Under your leadership, state schools faced relentless cuts while private schools continued to enjoy charitable status. If fairness is your concern, perhaps you could explain why your government prioritised tax breaks for millionaires over funding for underprivileged kids.

China: A Pot and a Kettle Walk into a Bar

Your dig at Rachel Reeves for visiting China is peak Boris. Under your leadership, Huawei had one foot in the door, and your government was as inconsistent on China as you are on marriage vows. Suggesting Reeves “stay in China” is not only juvenile but also reveals your complete inability to engage in serious foreign policy debate. It’s not diplomacy; it’s playground name-calling, and frankly, it’s embarrassing.

The Boris Doctrine: Lie, Deny, and Blame the Other Guy

Boris, your entire political career has been one long exercise in avoiding responsibility. Whether it’s the lies about Brexit, the cronyism, or the outright debauchery in Downing Street, you’ve never met a scandal you couldn’t wriggle out of with a bit of bluster and a cheeky grin.

But let’s be honest: the jig is up. The public saw through your act when you couldn’t even keep your own MPs onside. You’re not a statesman; you’re a shambles in a crumpled suit, lurching from one PR disaster to the next while blaming everyone else for the mess you left behind.

Conclusion: Retire Already

Your latest article isn’t a critique—it’s a tantrum. Labour didn’t break Britain, Boris—you did. You lied about Brexit, bungled the pandemic, and treated public office like your own personal fiefdom. Rachel Reeves isn’t the problem. You are.

So here’s an idea: take your trust speeches, your faux outrage, and your Latin-quoting buffoonery, and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine. Write another book, do some after-dinner speeches, and let the grown-ups get on with cleaning up the disaster you left behind.

Sincerely,
The People Who’ve Had Enough of Your Nonsense

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