In the middle of his hectic sightseeing schedule in Chicago, David Cameron insisted that Britain will only regain its rightful position as the dominant power on Earth when your boss is given back his God-given right to place his hand down your blouse and rub your nipples.
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| Keep that uniform damp, Miss Travers |
“My good chum and tennis partner, Adrian Beecroft, is quite right to point out that, instead of being tied up in silly red tape, employers’ hands must be free to wander where they will,” said the PM, taking time out from his search for the upmarket restaurant where his hero, Ferris Bueller, famously pretended to be Abe Froman, the sausage king of Chicago.
Among other plainly daft socialist-inspired employment laws in urgent need of repeal - continued Mr Cameron, as he clambered onto a parade float to sing Twist and Shout - were the silly ban on giving underlings a good kick in the seat of the pants, tiresome compensation claims when they lose a limb after needlessly expensive safety equipment is removed, and the inexplicable proscription on executing menials who fail to tug their forelocks swiftly enough.
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