I don’t know a ton about Boris Johnson. He’s the former Mayor of London, is very pro-Israel and hates the BDS movement, led the Brexit campaign only to withdraw from contention to be Prime Minister, and was just appointed Foreign Minister (okay, “Foreign Secretary”) in Theresa May’s new cabinet. And he has a mop of blonde hair.

He obviously has some wit, as in a 2007 column in The Telegraph newspaper in Britain, wherein he described Hillary Clinton in terms we all can appreciate (emphasis added):

“She’s got dyed blonde hair and pouty lips, and a steely blue stare, like a sadistic nurse in a mental hospital …”

Sounds like he was channeling Rush Limbaugh, who made the comparison just a couple of months earlier, Mrs. Clinton Plays Nurse Ratched:

Hillary Clinton Nurse Ratched

He went on to describe why he was supporting her for president in 2008 despite that description. He relished the thought of Bill Clinton back in the White House carousing around:

How can I possibly want Hillary? I mean, she represents, on the face of it, everything I came into politics to oppose: not just a general desire to raise taxes and nationalise things, but an all-round purse-lipped political correctness….

Unless I am much mistaken, the Clinton marriage is still standing, a shell-scarred monument to the triumph of hope over experience; and the nub of the matter is that I am prepared to pay the price of supporting Hillary just to get Bill Clinton once again padding over the shag pile carpet of the Oval Office, even if it is only to bring his wife a cup of tea….

For all who love America, it is time to think of supporting Hillary, not because we necessarily want her for herself but because we want Bill in the role of First Husband. And if Bill can deal with Hillary, he can surely deal with any global crisis.

Boris mended fences a little with Hillary during a 2015 visit to New York City, though I can’t find any reference to him apologizing for the comment, which he called “light-hearted.”

Heaven forbid Hillary is President and Boris has to deal with her. I mean, it’s not like she holds a grudge or is vindictive or anything. Or, as Boris described it in the 2007 column:

To ask the reader to support Hillary means asking you to forget all those worrying allegations that Ambrose Evans-Pritchard used to report so brilliantly in these pages: the funny goings-on with the White House travel office, the anomalies in the position of poor Vince Foster’s gun, the curious business of the drug-runners at the Rena airfield and the Whitewater real estate imbroglio.

How could I possibly emit the merest peep of support for a woman who seems to have acted out the role of First Lady, from 1993 to 2000, like a mixture between Cherie Blair and Lady Macbeth, stamping her heel, bawling out subordinates and frisbeeing ashtrays at her erring husband?