This morning I’m going to confess to a vicious dream.

So if you have always thought that by and large I was probably quite a nice person, look away!

When I was quite deep asleep last night, I dreamt that I was a judge, in full wig and gown and that the person up before me for judgement was Boris Johnson, accused of lying to the house and the nation. I had a lovely time in that dream, because it was perfectly possible for me to punish him as I saw fit.

I adjusted my wig and sentenced him to two weeks in the stocks, wearing nothing but a pair of underpants and out in a very public area where people could get to him at any hour of the day or night and sling abuse, rubbish, pots full of piddle and whatever else they fancied, all over him.

You see, if you put a wig on my head, I can get very vindictive!

I woke feeling pleased with myself at a job well done.

Oh dear, oh dear! Is this really who I am?!