Who but a lefty luvvie Remainer would say to her lefty luvvie Remainer partner, “Ooh Tom, I fear for the life and limb of the young woman who lives next door with Boris, what should I do?”
“I’ll phone the police, Eve while you phone The Guardian.”
Both Eve Leigh and her partner Tom Penn are playwrights. Tom is further described as “a magician and a musician.” Eve’s most recent play, appropriately enough staged in Islington, is called Trick and it was partly funded by the EU under their Creative Europe Programme. It appears that Trick isn’t much of a treat: The Times said it “goes seriously awry,” while the luvvie couple’s beloved Guardian described it as “a magic show with nothing up its sleeve.”
Eve has got form when it comes to Boris-baiting. She says she hopes he can be replaced by a Labour MP. She says she is “proud to have given him the finger,” and her antipathy goes back to 2012 and her support for the oiks of Occupy who caused chaos in the City when Boris was Mayor of London.
Of course, the police turned up and declared that no crime had been committed. End of story? Of course not: the fervent desire of the Remainer Establishment is that Boris will be thought unfit to become Prime Minister because he loses his temper, shouts and is very fond of sex. Well, we can all remember a time when we’ve lost our temper and shouted a bit. Fondness for sex is pretty widespread and never prevented anyone’s becoming Prime Minister. Take a look at this lot…
Historian Boyd Hilton wrote of Prime Minister Lord Melbourne: ”It is irrefutable that his personal life was problematic. Spanking sessions with aristocratic ladies may have been harmless, not so the whippings administered to orphan girls taken into his household as objects of charity.” Melbourne also had a long affair with the society beauty Caroline Norton. The husband demanded £1400 which Melbourne refused to pay. The affair continued.
David Lloyd George was a womaniser all his life and in 1943, when he was eighty and to the great disapproval of his daughters, he married Frances Stevenson who had been principal among his bevy of mistresses since 1913.
William Gladstone enjoyed the company of London prostitutes – claiming that his aim was their reform – even after he had been made Prime Minister. He had a strange religious temperament which went with a taste for being whipped.
Boris was overheard having a row. That’s small beer compared with this contemporary report on Harold Wilson’s behaviour by the widow of a leading member of Wilson’s “kitchen cabinet”:
‘”The upsets between Mr Wilson and Mrs Marcia Williams increased until they reached a nightmarish climax in March 1970. He was so physically tired from the long hours he had to spend trying to get through the work against the background of the time-consuming H. Wilson versus M. Williams upsets, that he confided to me at the time that he was no longer able to walk upstairs to the PM’s study, but had to take the lift.”
Benjamin Disraeli was fond of the ladies and recently the seventy-six years old pianist Catherine Styles, who lives in New Zealand, announced publicly: “Disraeli’s love-child was my grandmother.”
Ramsay Macdonald, puritanical, rigorous and austere had a fifteen years’ secret relationship with Lady Margaret Sackville which only a few close friends knew anything about. He wrote her hundreds of intimate letters and what a biographer described as “explicitly romantic poems.”
The military genius the Duke of Wellington who delivered us from Napoleon was famously described in a contemporary biography as “a cad and a rutting stag.” He married Kitty Pakenham but found her unattractive so he ran a string of mistresses including a princess, many high-born ladies and an ambassador’s wife.
Lord Palmerston pursued a vigorous sex life so voraciously that he once had to be publicly told off by Queen Victoria herself.
At least half the British Prime Ministers whose biographies I’ve consulted enjoyed sex lives rumbustious enough to make Boris look like an asexual anchorite. Unfortunately, his colourful indiscretions make him an easy target for cowardly, luvvie, lefty Remainers like Eve Leigh and her geeky partner Tom – “the magician” – Penn.
Forget about it Boris. Get your feet under the table in Number Ten. And get us out of the stinking EU.