It appears there are some people who are having an even worse week than me, and I've just been given my ninth (or is it tenth) eviction notice from the Co-op. They're not being very cooperative, I must say. But enough about my week.
As I said, looks like some people are having an even shittier week than me although it is certainly true that if the gutter press were as guttacious as they've been made out to be they'd be camped out on the front lawn oh yeah, they don't have those things in Islington, the front uh stoop? begging for a quote from the children and bribing the household pets with bacon bits.
It is therefore in the spirit of taking up arms against weeks which are both shitaceous and whoreanus that I present the following mindless Internet game. It should cheer at least one person up to know that Boris Johnson has attained the rarified altitudes inhabited by the seraphim and Kevin Bacon and gotten his own game. So to speak. The associated t-shirts are pure graphic gold, icons of both t-ness and shirt-ness that should be copied for generations hence. The Ice Cream of Truth is a symbol that all but the lactose-intolerant can support (and they shouldn't have any rights anyway) and the sound effects are pure sweetness. Ladies and gentlemen:
Vote Boris! Just because you can't
raincoaster 