The Frank Report XV

The sharks are circling at Westminster, as the Prime Minister’s enemies smell blood (or rather cake crumbs) in the murky Thames waters. Incapable though Starmer’s Labour are of identifying a winning election strategy (or for that matter, a women’s erection fantasy), they seem to have decided that illicit gateau is the hill to die on; they are not alone. A growing list of disaffected Tory MPs are also calling for Johnson’s head. Cakegate’s Dirty Dozen is headed by Steve Baker, who told the PM on Thursday ‘The gig is up’.

Across the Channel it’s squeaky bum time in the Paris boulangeries. Many a Frenchman’s Sunday croissant will be accompanied by complimentary bitten nails, as France goes to the polls today. Despite being a heavy favourite with the bookies, Macaroon will be sweating at the Élysée Palace, where polls suggest Marine Le Pen is a bit close for comfort. Fortunately for Emmanuel he can rely on the geriatric vote, where he not only ticks boxes, but has tickled many a fancy in the Paris octogenarian swingers scene. 

In the Channel itself, illegal immigrants find themselves caught between a rock and a hard place. Priti Patel has finally got her finger out and decided to send them all to Rwanda – a deterrent which has immediately made those cockless French birds ever so slightly more appealing. Home Office staff have threatened to mutiny over the Rwanda scheme – but as they do increasingly less work these days, and don’t deign to leave their home offices, this isn’t much of a threat. Civil service inertia has attracted the attention of Brexit minister, Jacob Rees Mogg, who was spotted leaving little notes on their empty desks:

Sorry you were out when I visited. I look forward to seeing you in the office very soon.

Good luck with that one, Moggy.

Meanwhile, with demand for racism outstripping supply to gargantuan proportions, anti-racist activists are scraping the barrel. Black DJ’s are now getting accused of wearing blackface (no it wasn’t Trudeau, we checked). Stroud council is planning to tear down the 250-year-old ‘Blackboy’ clock, presumably because it fiendishly conceals the word ‘black’ in its title. And Gladstone Park in north-west London is up for a rebrand, because Gladstone who considered slavery ‘the foulest crime’, wasn’t quite up to Twitter woke standards. 

Cue Diane Abbott, the go to girl when you want community cohesion. Suggestions for the renaming include: ‘Diane Abbott Park’, ‘Multi-faith Park’, and ‘Diversity Fields’, though my person favourite remains, ’White people love playing ‘divide and rule’, we should not play their game #tacticasoldascolonialism Park’. 

From Russia without much love, there are reports that Vlad the Poutine may be suffering from cancer, which experts argue could explain his incursion into Ukraine. My dad had cancer too though he rarely made it out of his chair, so I suppose it depends on your mood. There’s a lot of cancer about in London sadly, though with the NHS too busy making TikTok videos to treat it, we usually just save time and elect it as mayor. 

Don’t worry – it’s not catching, and rest assured the authorities are doing everything within their power to ensure that London is, as mayor Khan insists, ‘The safest city in the world’. For instance, it’s reassuring to know the Old Bill will no longer be referring to anyone with those hurtful gender-rigid terms – instead they will restrict themselves to ‘you’, ‘everyone’ and ‘all’. As in, ‘Hello everyone, you all appear to have been stabbed’ – at which point your correct response is, ‘I’m a transwoman on my f**king period you racist’. That should result in a nice little earner, if you live long enough to cash the cheque. 

Cashing the $100M Netflix cheques is our old mate Hazza, who has demanded a more equal world for his children. Yes, Prince Henry Charles Albert David, duke of Sussex, earl of Dumbarton, Baron Kilkeel, formerly Prince Harry of Wales (you know, the eunuch with the Yank loudmouth?) also wants to ‘protect’ the Queen. Bear in mind this is the man who admits to ‘experiencing burnout’, has to meditate every day, and whose wife has banned him from hunting, alcohol, and tea and coffee; I bet the Queen’s Guards are shitting themselves. 

The Sussexes may also find themselves under pressure from Netflix to actually do something for their money. In attempts to shore up a 40% drop in share price (circa $60BN), the streaming company is apparently eager for Me Again and Hairy to reveal more family secrets – but that could backfire. The Royal Family is rumoured to be getting tired of the never-ending soap opera with Harry, so that’s another few subscribers gone straight away.

In terms of Covid, the public have been reassured that despite the odd 20-year-old dropping dead of heart attacks, the third dose is not associated with an increase in adverse effects – and really, you should have to risk something if you want your ‘I’m vaccinated more than you’ badge. 

Bunking off school has undergone a makeover, and will now be known as GCSE Climate Change. Coursework will include assessments on glue skills, getting your tits out for no reason, and how hysterically students can shout ‘How dare you!’ The Department for Education has welcomed such a move, commenting that vocational qualifications are needed now more than ever. 

Speaking of vocations, popular Muslim careers guidance counsellor, Anjem Choudary, has complained that David Amess’s murderer, Ali Harbi Ali was radicalised by Britain. While Ali did get to watch some of Choudary’s videos, ‘Andy Pandy’ was clearly frustrated he couldn’t play a more pivotal role, residing as he was at Her Majesty’s pleasure. 

Time to go home, so it’s back in the basket for Anjem – at least until the next terror attack. 

That was Frank’s week.

Take care of yourselves, and cancel your Netflix subscription.