As I sit here this evening, I feel it is my duty to report that there is a strong possibility that I’ve fucked it.
Like so many of you, I had hoped for the best, but it appears that I have, after all, ensured the best is nowhere to be seen.
At the moment, I have to tell you in all candour, me fucking it appears to have – for want of a better phrase – properly left it fucked.
Now is the time for everyone to come together and realise that me fucking it was always an outcome for which we should have prepared. As I’ve said all along, since the Brexit campaign began in early 2016, me fucking it was not only realistic, but that it was also desirable.
Fucking things has been my stock-in-trade since my earliest days in politics – whether it’s Londoners, IT consultants, violinists, or even a desirable Brexit deal – I’ve fucked every last one of them. And let me assure you, I’ve done it with a smile on my face.
So I say to you now, let us confront the fact that I’ve fucked it, them, and you, and let’s move forward together, into the jizz-encrusted future I have lovingly prepared for all of us.
Sweet dreams to you all.