From hat on head, to dupatta on brow, to naqab on face, I have been through several lives and several wives. I have finally reached the pineapple of nirvana because I have seen the light. I might however see a few more lights, now and then. But for the moment, I am delighted to announce my wedding, which took place on January 1, er sorry I meant February whatever, witnessed by my closest comrades, whose names escape me. And Pinky’s mum and five kids, whose names escape me.
Unlike my previous marriages, this is an everlasting bond, not bondage. Henceforward, kinks will be replaced by Pinks. And good times will be replaced by Godly times. Above all, Pink is the new Black.
Back to politics: the best thing Nawaz Sharif can now do is to leave Pakistan for another decade or so. He should leave governance to me. I have some very creative ideas on how to tackle the budget deficit. I will get hefty sponsorships for everything, especially great state institutions. Hence forward, it will be Sunsilk General Headquarters, Bahria National Assembly, Rose Petal Pakistan Navy, Coca Cola National Accountability Bureau, Masterfoam Supreme Court, Pepsi Election Commission and so on. There will be a huge influx of money from these sponsorships and the deficit will go up in a puff of smoke, unlike me who’s stopped puffing and smoking and am in the Pink of health as a result.
I’ve now gone so thoroughly native that I’ve dropped all my old friends in London. The editor of Tatler, Lady Patricia Pitbull-Terrier called to interview me about my new marriage but I didn’t take her call. Then she got her secretary Eliza Dolittle to ring, no response from me. Then she got her hairdresser Vidal Sassoon to call, no response from me. Then she got her photographer the late Cecil Beaton to call me, still no response. Finally, she got my old friend Mick Jagger to call me and try and make conversation by asking what I thought of Teresa May’s new Abortion Bill, “Oh for God’s sake, Mick, just pay it!”
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