I know I say this a lot, but “Happy Holidays” everyone! And I mean “Holidays” plural because I am having a well-earned three! I’ve been jolly busy recently and hardly seen Sam in a bikini at all, so I am sure you’ll agree that it’s time for me to take a staycation or two and a vacation somewhere nice!
The staff are now off on a short break until September, apart from the medical team of course, who will be working seven days a week, as Mr Hunt promised. As Jeremy said to me, when I rang him earlier, “This is a recorded message, Mr Hunt is on holiday, please leave a message after the patronising tone.”
We’re looking forward to a long, hot summer and if anyone finds themselves overheating, I know the whereabouts of at least three water cannons that aren’t being used for anything else!
Not for the first time, Mr Johnson has made a bit of a cock-up (thanks, Fink, D, but remember this is a family newsletter!). When he purchased three Ziegler Wasser Werfer 9000s for a mere £219,000 to help with school discipline, Mr Johnson clearly thought he was getting a bargain off our German friends, but sadly they obviously saw him coming and sold him the only bit of German machinery that doesn’t actually work.
Poor old Boris has spent even more money trying to fix them up, only to be told by Mrs May, who’s in charge of discipline, that he can’t use them because they’re not safe. Worse than that, they’re not in keeping with the spirit of the school – machine guns and tasers, fine; but you can’t possibly spray water at people in a British school. Honestly! Mr Johnson got very hot under the collar when told this and it was lucky that Mrs May didn’t turn one of them on him.
This unseemly and wasteful episode did at least prove one thing – that neither of them are fit to succeed me as Headmaster. That job looks more and more likely to go to the Bursar, Mr Osborne, whose recent balancing of the books has shown the school is only 1 trillion pounds in debt. Well done, George! Give that man a pay rise! Oh, we have! And all the rest of the staff as well.
Oh well, time to fire up the barbecue. Make sure you’re burning proper coal and none of that green crap!
Tally ho! Or, on second thoughts, Westward ho (Cornwall). Northward ho (the in-laws’ island of Jura). And Southward ho (to sunny Portugal). Hurrah!!