We journalists - a trade which I joined at the tender age of 17 - are terrible people. Our capacity for carousing and corruption is legendary; we consistently rate second (with 37%) only to politicians (78%) in the list of professions the public distrust. Never mind - we have our own church (St Bride’s of London) and our own patron saint (Saint Francis de Sales). And for the past three years, we have had our very own Hack Prime Minister. Though 14 years a journalist compared to 21 years a politician, Boris Johnson is one of us, in his perfidy and his charm. I will miss him.

Though his enemies like to portray him as a feather-bedded fop, Johnson is from a rackety Bohemian background, and went to Eton on a scholarship. A quiet, studious - and deaf - child, he nevertheless expressed an ambition to be ‘world king’ at an early age. The start-up of the two sides of his character - shy outsider born again as glad-handing populist, people-pleaser who became so bad at saying ‘No’ that it looked like arrogance - could be seen here. And whereas they would have been an advantage in journalism, they have proved disastrous in a political leader, as electorates get very upset if they find out they’ve been lied to.

His resignation speech - Mr Toad goes rogue, blaming everyone but himself for his misfortunes, especially the weaselly herd for not being able keep up with him - brought out in force those sad-sacks living in a state of terror that someone, somewhere, might be enjoying themselves. All the sanctimonious, sex-starved prigs scolding him about his love life - Big Bad Boris and those poor innocent girls! But his attitude to women isn’t shocking, unless one is a ninny; he’s liked having sex with lots of people and he’s fallen in love with some of them, as most of us have. (Especially journalists.) As PM, he was an enthusiastic promoter of women he had no sexual involvement with into the cabinet - Priti Patel, Suella Braverman, Kemi Badenoch, Liz Truss, Therese Coffey, Anne-Marie Trevelyan, Amanda Milling - whereas it was an unfortunate coincidence that the woman most promoted by ex-Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn was his ex-lover Diane Abbott. I’d rather have a leader who lies to a few women personally than lies about all women in public - see Labour leader Keir Starmer mouthing the ultimate untruth that men can become women just by believing it so.

If only he’d stuck to his writing, which he was so good at; you get rewarded for making things up, and people expect you to be a philanderer. Like that other great Tory leader and writer Disraeli (another outsider too witty for workaday politics) taking risks kept his lively mind engaged, finding its ultimate gamble in Brexit - his gift to the British people. But besides Brexit, and striding the world stage from time to time, the Top Job involves lots of policy detail, political navigation and little money - not to the taste of Mr Toad. He was always a bit too big for the role - Starmer is way too small - and he'll have a better life now, a well-remunerated top-flight hack’s life. He earned £164,000 as PM, compared to £275,000 as a newspaper columnist (reported to be working around ten hours a month) and with speeches and books added he’s going to be rolling in it - his autobiography, unlike those of other ex-leaders, will sell very well.

So his envious detractors relish of his stumble may be short-lived; it was one of the shortest Premierships, yet one of the most momentous - unlike poor mangled Mrs May, he need have no worries about not leaving a political legacy. He is incorrigible and the incorrigible tend to enjoy their lives greatly. He has great ‘bounce-back’ - resilience, the greatest gift in life, and like his hero Churchill realises that ‘Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm.’ He will go and earn a vast amount of money, and enjoy his young family - and we reprobate hacks will welcome back this prodigal who flew too high, was judged by the standards of decent society and found failing, but will soon be back at the Press Bar ordering triples all round and toasting - with a gleam in his eye - ‘Bottoms up!’

Julie Burchill has been a journalist since the age of 17 - she is now 63. Her latest book WELCOME TO THE WOKE TRIALS: HOW #IDENTITY KILLED PROGRESSIVE POLITICS is available on Amazon Kindle.