Carrie Symonds's guide to your horrible little house

AS THE prime ministerial concubine, I have exquisite taste in home furnishings. No I will not show you my flat, but I will tell you what’s wrong with yours.

Cheap, mass-produced furniture

One glance and I can tell it’s not bespoke. Did you get this from the high street? Ugh. Everything about it just screams ‘stamped out for identical suburban rabbit hutches’. God, please don’t tell me it was self-assembly. It was self-assembly, wasn’t it. That hurts me.

Beige painted walls

Painted walls are municipal. I feel like I’m at a meeting of Pembrokeshire County Council. And the endless beige; why? What’s wrong with hand-painted wallpaper with a bit of gold leaf? Brighten up your dull lives a little? Farrow & Ball? That’s for second homes.

Reproduction artworks

I’m sorry, are you trying to fool people that’s a Picasso? You know that’s illegal? Oh, I see, you got it from the Tate shop. It’s a print. Give me strength. So you’re actually advertising that you don’t own this picture. You like how it looks? Do you know absolutely nothing about art?

No patterns

Your sofa appears to be a single block colour, while hand-embroidery is far more expensive. I presume you know this? I wouldn’t even have something as plain as that in a doll’s house. For Christ’s sake have the simple self-respect to cover everything in fleur-de-lis.

Paperback books

Books do furnish a room. That’s what they’re for. So rather than vulgarly keeping books you’ve actually read cluttering up the place, as if you’re boasting about being functionally literate, get a designer in who can provide you with the right worn leatherbound spines.

Nasty electric lighting

Harsh, isn’t it? I suppose that soft lighting is a waste when you’re as physically disadvantaged as you are already, but we could make the effort, couldn’t we? Good candles start at as little as £400, so treat yourself. Don’t worry, someone else will pay for it. Not your job to care who.

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That wanker Gove's next in line, Britain realises

WORRIED Britons have realised that current attacks on Boris Johnson could be a prelude to even worse wanker Michael Gove replacing him.

The media’s sudden lack of support for Johnson, and Gove’s smirking contortions in half-hearted defence of the prime minister, has reminded the country that a very depressing power struggle is going on.

Tom Logan said: “That Johnson bodies remark? Usually they’d laugh it off, and print some bollocks about Prince Louis wearing long trousers instead.

“But now they’re treating it as if it’s a stupid, callous, sociopathic thing to say, and asking questions about corruption too. Either they’ve opened a dusty desk drawer and discovered a moral compass or there’s a Gove coup gearing up.

“I’d be glad to see the back of Johnson. He’s shit. But I don’t think I could bear that smug little stop-motion goblin Gove as PM. I’d have to smash my telly or do myself in.”

Donna Sheridan said: “Johnson’s a pompous, arrogant twat, but he plays it for laughs. Gove’s pompous, arrogant but plays it like the evil, scheming grand vizier in a pantomime. It’s like deciding whether you want irritable bowel syndrome or frequent migraines.

“Shit, I’ve just realised Sarah Vine will be constantly wanking on about being the prime minister’s wife. On reflection, all the bodies-piled-high stuff is fine by me.”

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