This week on planet earth: Australia deports a tennis champion and a Tory prime minister teeters on the edge of resignation over an undisclosed party.
Let me guess…
The tennis champ smashed his entire racket collection to pieces while effing and blinding at the umpire until, in a fit of pique, he turned his white-flannelled posterior to a waiting cameraman’s lens, pulled his shorts down and showed the whole of the moon to the whole world.
And for seconds…
Well, that’s easy. A Tory politician and a party? We’re talking an orange, a gimp suit, a fleet of extremely expensive high-end prostitutes, 5 litres of unfiltered extra virgin olive oil and a very well trained Jack Russell terrier.
No?
They what?
He didn’t take his vaccinations?
Eh?
An office party?
A socially-distanced office party?
With a quiz?
What the…?
Did I fall into a coma and the whole world turned into Mary Whitehouse without me noticing?
Someone wake me up.
Please.
Hello?
Anyone?
In Sweden, no one had to ask: are you social distancing?
