It’s times like this, where there are no obvious political leaders across the political divide, that desperate times call for desperate measures. It’s why I’m now stepping up and offering my services to take over the running of my country.
I realise this will probably involve getting up out of bed before 8 am on weekdays, and limiting myself to one and a half bottles of wine a night, but if Churchill could do it then so can I. For the sake of a prosperous future I’m prepared to make any reasonable sacrifice – as long as there’s a big official car and unlimited access to business class air travel. Hey, I’m not a complete idiot.
So here follows my 10 point, though in no particular order of importance or implementation, election pledge:
1. Free maple syrup for all citizens. This will develop strong economic links with the people of Canada. This is a good thing as I’ve never met a Canadian I haven’t liked.
2. Men with beards will proceed straight to the head of any bus queue. This is in recognition of their selfless devotion to facial grooming.
3. Mastering the art of paella making will become a compulsory subject on the school curriculum. This will mean our country’s youth will be equipped with one of life’s vital skills.
4. Alexander Skarsgard will be recruited to read the evening news. I haven’t decided yet what, if any, clothing he will wear. But he’ll obviously have to be flexible.
5. From the date of my election, skinny jeans will be banned in public places. They can, however, be worn in the privacy of citizens’ homes for their own twisted personal pleasure.
6. My mother, Cruella, will be exiled to someplace inhospitable (possibly northern Norway) with only intermittent access to forms of telecommunication. My father will be free to visit her at any time to perform conjugal acts, but obviously will be forbidden from discussing this with me.
7. L’Oréal will appoint me as their goodwill ambassador. Looking my best will be critical. Especially if voters expect me to get out of bed before 8 am.
8. Vacuuming will be declared a new Olympic sport. Citizens must aspire to good suction and neat rugs.
9. I will let them eat cake. Especially anything with a coconut frosting.
10. My husband will become deputy prime minister and will carry my briefcase with the nuclear codes in it. Listen, if I carried it myself it would invariably be left at the front of a bus queue whilst I mingle with bearded voters.
“I’m not sure the general public will see immediate merits in sending your mother to the Arctic Circle,” said Guido slurping up a plate of spaghetti last night, “and neither would your mother.”
“It’s also weird that three out of ten of your pledges involves food. I mean, what about your stance on the European Common Fisheries Policy and any negotiations on a Bilateral Trade Balance?”
I tutted again.
“A mere trifling footnote in history,” I said.
Obviously until Guido’s attitude towards my premiership bucks up I’ll be scrubbing pledge number 10 (see above) and to hell with the nuclear consequences.
“Listen up kiddo. You can please some of the people all of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time,” I said.
I stirred my pasta.
Abraham would have been proud.