As you may have heard (if you haven’t, I’m losing my narcissistically self-promotional touch) my new TV show Piers Morgan Uncensored launches soon and will air daily in the UK, America and Australia, thus fulfilling my long-held ambition to become a global irritant. The title provokes mirth among those who feel I’ve never shown any sign of being censored. But my enforced removal from Good Morning Britain last year for refusing to apologise for an honest opinion that Meghan Markle is to veracity what Vladimir Putin is to humanity was cowardly corporate censorship, and I’m confident that if Princess Pinocchio writes to my new boss Rupert Murdoch demanding my head on a plate – as she did to ITV’s CEO Dame Carolyn McCall – she won’t be quite so successful.
My brilliant team are working feverishly to land big-name guests (the first show’s an eye-popping corker…) and getting some amusing responses. Fiery filmmaker Oliver Stone emailed back: ‘Piers, I look forward to your new show and congratulate you on the way you keep managing to make a better bed for yourself each time you get fired. Best, Oliver.’
Newspaper adverts for PMU have included snarling images of me crunching the Houses of Parliament like King Kong, suggesting the honourable members will be recoiling in terror from my comeback. In fact, the opposite may be true. Several months ago, Michael Gove and Oliver Dowden – both of whom I’ve aggressively harangued on air – invited me to a secret senior Tory away-day conference to berate them all about where they’re going wrong. ‘Just be your usual charming self, Piers,’ urged Gove: ‘as blunt and rude as you like.’ ‘Admit it, Michael,’ I replied. ‘You guys just miss me shouting at you.’

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