Boris Johnson: a string bag full of testicle tumours, a liposuction vat gone feral, a shapeless suit full of suet, a child’s toy made out of mortal sins, a moomin cthulhu, a stain on the ceiling that mysteriously attained sentience.

Boris Johnson: mould that grins, two frightened eyes peering through a Tommy Cooper mask, the least possible amount of fun you’ve ever had, bin juice but it’s coming out of your shower, a golem made out of smegma.

Boris Johnson: twelve flailing carp sewn together inside the skin of a long dead taxidermist, a remake of Hellraiser using the cast of Mamma Mia, a two legged avatar of Verified By Visa, a gingerbread man that smells of poverty & survives on childrens tears.

Ok I feel slightly better now

Boris Johnson: a stagnant puddle of fart-custard

Boris Johnson: tepidly pleasuring himself with the invisible hand of the market, before collapsing into a wheezing heap.

Boris Johnson: a michelin man constructed from uncooked squid rings.

Boris Johnson: a yeti made of phlegm.

Boris Johnson: an enigma wrapped in a riddle buried inside a posh get trapped in an industrial fridge.

Boris Johnson: a face the consistency of a boiled shite.