There's something unnerving and completely unnatural about an ostrich. Birds aren't supposed to be that big, and nothing they do can convince me otherwise. Well, almost anything. I'm now officially Team Ostrich after one of them attacked Boris Johnson, the disgraced former British Prime Minister, Brexit supporter, sole human alive whose haircut would actually be improved by a Flowbee, and, most iconically to us, absolutely awful car writer. I bet the ostrich would do it again, too.
You'd think Johnson would be too ashamed to show his face in public, but apparently he thought he'd be safe in Texas, since no one there outside of Austin can read. And yet, the Daily Mail reports that while driving through one of those animal safari parks with his multi-decade-younger wife and their three kids, one of whom is only a year old, an ostrich took it upon itself to remind Johnson that couldn't have been further from the truth. You shouldn't have been so horny for the cars, Boris.
Maybe the ostrich was still upset about the cost-of-living crisis that Johnson helped cause in the UK, but since it attacked him in a car, I have to conclude it was at least partly related to Boris' time as the world's worst automotive journalist.
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Now, you don't exactly have to be an award-winning writer to get a job writing about cars. If you did, I certainly wouldn't be in the second decade of my career as an automotive journalist. But Boris had a way of writing about cars that could make you physically uncomfortable just reading his words. For example, while reviewing the Ferrari F430, he wrote, "It was as though the whole county of Hampshire was lying back and opening her well-bred legs to be ravished by the Italian stallion." Eww, Boris. Gross. No, thank you.
Johnson wasn't just weirdly, uncomfortably horny for the cars, either. He also had a reputation for racking up parking violations, getting loaner cars impounded, and expecting anyone other than himself to take care of the fines. Considering all that, would it also surprise you to learn his editors at GQ also claim he regularly turned in his articles late and couldn't even be counted on to remember what color car he had been given?
And yet, he managed to keep getting paid, all while writers who actually took their jobs seriously struggled to earn enough money to cover their bills and put food on the table. Then again, would you expect anything other than entitlement and incompetence from an Eton grad? Even though it's trapped in Texas, there are probably at least a few million people in the UK who are jealous that ostrich had the courage and opportunity to do what they only wish they could.
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