Name: David Cameron.
Appearance: A bladder of lard. A carrier bag filled with yoghurt. “A C3PO made of ham” (Caitlin Moran). A serenely untroubled alleged (but denied) pig- and (definite) country-despoiler.
May I briefly indulge myself by hoping that he is in the news because he is about to be brought before some kind of tribunal for letting his ego drown his nation in the Brexit mire? You may, but he’s not.
An official commission? Inquiry? Nope.
Could you give me “constantly running a gauntlet of contemptuous Cotswolds looks whenever he pops down to Waitrose”? It’s possible, but there have been no confirmed reports.
What is he up to, then? He has been taking selfies with a hen party at Wilderness festival.
There are many things wrong with that sentence. I know.
One, what is a hen party doing wanting pictures with Cameron? How bad a night are you having for his advent into your lives to become a highlight…