COMEDIAN Joe Lycett is suing the BBC's Strictly Come Dancing after coming a cropper on it's famous staircase.
Mr Lycett, 31, posted to his infinite followers on Twitter a video depicting the moment when he was sauntering jovially up the stairs to what This Reporter believes to have been dubbed the "Clauditorium", to make a guest appearance on the popular "terms and conditions" section of the Saturday night dance contest. Only to trip on one of the steps and fall flat on his face, crushing his pink sequined jacket.
Mr Lycett picked himself up and carried on with the show, ever the seasoned professional, but swung straight onto social media after his segment declaring; "see you in court" @bbcstrictly.
There is a distinct possibility, of course, that when Mr Lycett typed out the words "see you in court" he may have been pulling Strictly's plonker. All in all, this news story could be dismissed as fantasy, make-believe, a classic case of "having a laugh". Fake news.
But when it comes to believability, we are undeniably living in uncertain times. A case in point being the latest twist in the Brexit entertainment extravaganza, which if judged completely on comedic value would be put down as some form of nationwide figment of all our collective imaginations, save that it firmly put paid to the "lols" several months ago.
The latest twist in the not so funny, yet ludicrous, saga began with "Super Saturday", so called as being the first Saturday in 37 years that MPs have had to sit in Parliament, which ended up not so much "super", but more an anti-climax.
This was to have been Prime Minister Boris Johnson's big "razzle dazzle them" moment, confident as he was that, being a man, he would have more chance of passing pretty much the same Withdrawal Agreement through Parliament, only with certain changes, and certainly all in the negative, to former Prime Minister Theresa May's one.
This was all put paid to however by MPs voting in favour of the Letwin amendment, which stated MPs would not vote on the deal until they had had enough time to peruse the legislation and Parliament was disbanded by lunchtime. Good news especially for Tory MP Peter Bone, whose birthday it was.
Not so good for Mr Johnson who had been set a deadline to either pass his deal or ask the EU for an extension to Article 50, by midnight Saturday, which we must again remind ourselves, he has said he would rather "die in a ditch" than do.
As it turns out Mr Johnson thought he had out-foxed the lot of us, though this doesn't seem quite the right animal, not having quite enough of an unpleasant whiff, despite raiding the garbage. Instead This Reporter will plump for coyote. Mr Johnson thought he had out-coyoteed the lot of us when he sent not one but two letters to the European Union - one a photocopy of a pre-drafted extension letter, unsigned, and the second a letter telling the EU to ignore his extension request, clearly signed off "BoJo".
Where this immediately came unstuck in terms of a "master stroke" was when EU leaders took the first letter requesting an extension as red and filed the second letter to a place of its deserving, under "b" for bin, or similar.
Undefeated, or potentially desperate, Mr Johnson tried a second time to get MP's to vote on his deal on Monday which was kiboshed by Speaker John Bercow who said such a move was "repetitive and disorderly" seeing as nothing had changed in the two days since Mr Johnson had last requested a vote on the Withdrawal Agreement - to wit MPs were only on page 11 of 5,067 of the bill and so didn't know what they were voting for.
Cue consternation from the Brexiteer constituency that Mr Bercow should learn to be impartial when there is a strong argument that goes Mr Bercow, far from following his personal inclinations, was merely following the letter of the law. And This Reporter had been under the impression this was what it was all about - British sovereignty and making our own laws. Quite ironic these such laws are proving hard to swallow. Don't tell This Reporter this is actually all about having brand new blue passports?
Tuesday and Mr Johnson, who to take us back to the Strictly staircase of earlier, had certainly on becoming Prime Minister thought his attempt at securing Brexit would be very much Joe Lycett running up the stairs pre-fall, beaming widely, sparkly jacket glinting. Now plodding less certainly, smile more gritted, several sequins fallen from his jacket, he nevertheless somehow managed to wangle a vote for MPs to back "in principle" his Brexit deal, which passed by 30 votes.
Only for the mood to take swift gear change as a second vote on Johnson's Brexit timetable, which involved the alpha male move of "ramming" through his Brexit deal by the deadline of next Thursday (October 31st), was defeated despite several threats along the way from Mr Johnson that if they did not vote for the timetable he would call a general election.
Threats which proved less than empty, if there can be such a thing, as pushed on the matter afterwards he said he was now waiting for the EU to decide whether to grant a Brexit extension before he announced what he was going to do. And there we leave him.
Elsewhere in news which, "whoop whoop", sets off This Reporter's metaphorical radar, a Danish lighthouse has been put on wheels and towed away from the edge of a cliff due to severe risk of it falling into the North Sea as a result of coastline erosion.
Rubjerg Knude lighthouse, 120-years-old, was approximately 200 metres from the coast when it was first lit in 1900 but that distance had shrunk to just six metres. Local mayor Arne Boelt said many things could go wrong when moving the defunct building, which weighs about 1,000 tonnes and sits on a cliff "but it's worth the risk...the alternative would be to dismantle the lighthouse".
Which leads us very neatly back to Brexit and the question of whether at this, objectively, hopeless point in proceedings it wouldn't be better to put Britain on wheels and drag it back from the cliff edge?
Because as it stands Joe Lycett is down there at sea level, where he was fallen, doing his best impression of some wag eking all the originality out of photographic perspective, as they have their picture snapped at the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Arms aloft, bearing the weight of the eroding cliff edge, legs in full lunge and gravely in danger of splitting his matching pink sequined trousers.
He's saying something but it keeps getting caught on the wind, what is it? Oh yes, This Reporter feels Mr Lycett is talking for the best of us when he says @borisjohnson "See you in court".
**As point of disclaimer, some events in this article are complete fabrication. It is however still unclear which events this comment refers to, and which it does not.
Mr Lycett, 31, posted to his infinite followers on Twitter a video depicting the moment when he was sauntering jovially up the stairs to what This Reporter believes to have been dubbed the "Clauditorium", to make a guest appearance on the popular "terms and conditions" section of the Saturday night dance contest. Only to trip on one of the steps and fall flat on his face, crushing his pink sequined jacket.
Mr Lycett picked himself up and carried on with the show, ever the seasoned professional, but swung straight onto social media after his segment declaring; "see you in court" @bbcstrictly.
There is a distinct possibility, of course, that when Mr Lycett typed out the words "see you in court" he may have been pulling Strictly's plonker. All in all, this news story could be dismissed as fantasy, make-believe, a classic case of "having a laugh". Fake news.
But when it comes to believability, we are undeniably living in uncertain times. A case in point being the latest twist in the Brexit entertainment extravaganza, which if judged completely on comedic value would be put down as some form of nationwide figment of all our collective imaginations, save that it firmly put paid to the "lols" several months ago.
The latest twist in the not so funny, yet ludicrous, saga began with "Super Saturday", so called as being the first Saturday in 37 years that MPs have had to sit in Parliament, which ended up not so much "super", but more an anti-climax.
This was to have been Prime Minister Boris Johnson's big "razzle dazzle them" moment, confident as he was that, being a man, he would have more chance of passing pretty much the same Withdrawal Agreement through Parliament, only with certain changes, and certainly all in the negative, to former Prime Minister Theresa May's one.
This was all put paid to however by MPs voting in favour of the Letwin amendment, which stated MPs would not vote on the deal until they had had enough time to peruse the legislation and Parliament was disbanded by lunchtime. Good news especially for Tory MP Peter Bone, whose birthday it was.
Not so good for Mr Johnson who had been set a deadline to either pass his deal or ask the EU for an extension to Article 50, by midnight Saturday, which we must again remind ourselves, he has said he would rather "die in a ditch" than do.
As it turns out Mr Johnson thought he had out-foxed the lot of us, though this doesn't seem quite the right animal, not having quite enough of an unpleasant whiff, despite raiding the garbage. Instead This Reporter will plump for coyote. Mr Johnson thought he had out-coyoteed the lot of us when he sent not one but two letters to the European Union - one a photocopy of a pre-drafted extension letter, unsigned, and the second a letter telling the EU to ignore his extension request, clearly signed off "BoJo".
Where this immediately came unstuck in terms of a "master stroke" was when EU leaders took the first letter requesting an extension as red and filed the second letter to a place of its deserving, under "b" for bin, or similar.
Undefeated, or potentially desperate, Mr Johnson tried a second time to get MP's to vote on his deal on Monday which was kiboshed by Speaker John Bercow who said such a move was "repetitive and disorderly" seeing as nothing had changed in the two days since Mr Johnson had last requested a vote on the Withdrawal Agreement - to wit MPs were only on page 11 of 5,067 of the bill and so didn't know what they were voting for.
Cue consternation from the Brexiteer constituency that Mr Bercow should learn to be impartial when there is a strong argument that goes Mr Bercow, far from following his personal inclinations, was merely following the letter of the law. And This Reporter had been under the impression this was what it was all about - British sovereignty and making our own laws. Quite ironic these such laws are proving hard to swallow. Don't tell This Reporter this is actually all about having brand new blue passports?
Tuesday and Mr Johnson, who to take us back to the Strictly staircase of earlier, had certainly on becoming Prime Minister thought his attempt at securing Brexit would be very much Joe Lycett running up the stairs pre-fall, beaming widely, sparkly jacket glinting. Now plodding less certainly, smile more gritted, several sequins fallen from his jacket, he nevertheless somehow managed to wangle a vote for MPs to back "in principle" his Brexit deal, which passed by 30 votes.
Only for the mood to take swift gear change as a second vote on Johnson's Brexit timetable, which involved the alpha male move of "ramming" through his Brexit deal by the deadline of next Thursday (October 31st), was defeated despite several threats along the way from Mr Johnson that if they did not vote for the timetable he would call a general election.
Threats which proved less than empty, if there can be such a thing, as pushed on the matter afterwards he said he was now waiting for the EU to decide whether to grant a Brexit extension before he announced what he was going to do. And there we leave him.
Elsewhere in news which, "whoop whoop", sets off This Reporter's metaphorical radar, a Danish lighthouse has been put on wheels and towed away from the edge of a cliff due to severe risk of it falling into the North Sea as a result of coastline erosion.
Rubjerg Knude lighthouse, 120-years-old, was approximately 200 metres from the coast when it was first lit in 1900 but that distance had shrunk to just six metres. Local mayor Arne Boelt said many things could go wrong when moving the defunct building, which weighs about 1,000 tonnes and sits on a cliff "but it's worth the risk...the alternative would be to dismantle the lighthouse".
Which leads us very neatly back to Brexit and the question of whether at this, objectively, hopeless point in proceedings it wouldn't be better to put Britain on wheels and drag it back from the cliff edge?
Because as it stands Joe Lycett is down there at sea level, where he was fallen, doing his best impression of some wag eking all the originality out of photographic perspective, as they have their picture snapped at the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Arms aloft, bearing the weight of the eroding cliff edge, legs in full lunge and gravely in danger of splitting his matching pink sequined trousers.
He's saying something but it keeps getting caught on the wind, what is it? Oh yes, This Reporter feels Mr Lycett is talking for the best of us when he says @borisjohnson "See you in court".
**As point of disclaimer, some events in this article are complete fabrication. It is however still unclear which events this comment refers to, and which it does not.
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