Hold the presses, this is a world exclusive. A Boris ex I sat next to last week gave me the scoop: he is absent-minded, disorganised and drops wine on sofas. The ex in question was Petronella Wyatt and we were at a lunch Rupert Hambro gave for Conrad Black. There were lotsa big hitters there, including Pa Johnson.
La Wyatt is a good girl, and she did have a bit of a rough time with Mr B, but she’s been grand where cashing in is concerned. Despite non-stop offers by the lowlifes that pass as journalists nowadays, she has refused them all. Ladies do not spill the beans, especially not for moolah. The offers would have tempted many so-called lassies I know, but not this Hungarian minx. Good for you, kid. You put the Kardashian and Hilton clans to shame.
Petronella did not take the advice I gave her, which is a shame. It would have been a real electoral winner. I told her that she should accept the highest offer, then sit down with a large piece of cardboard and an industrial pen, draw a life-sized picture of Boris’s willy — 14 inches with a vast circumference — and declare that his organ is far larger even than that of Superman. For any of you young whippersnappers who have never heard of Superman, he was the legendary star of a sex show in Havana, BC Cuba. As college boys, we paid 80 cents to see his act (I remember a braggart friend of mine saying on our way out of that ghastly place that he was not impressed). Such was his fame — infamy really — that Superman was included in The Godfather Part II.
Needless to say, Wyatt did not take my advice and she is the poorer for it.
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