It’s weird being friends with someone who suddenly becomes President of the United States, not least for the reflected glory that suddenly rains down on one’s own far less powerful cranium. I was roundly ridiculed by numerous high-profile journalists and celebrities for predicting Donald Trump’s victory throughout his 16-month campaign.
Now, many of those same egg-faced mockers slither up at festive parties to whisper a variant of: ‘Any chance you could put a good word in for me with Donald?’ To which my preferred response is to place a patronising hand on their shoulder and say: ‘It’s Mr President-elect Trump to you.’
This is an extract from Piers Morgan’s Christmas diary. The full article can be found here.