Good Morning my loyal subjects, or for the more intellectual readers of The Weekly, ‘salve mi subliti’. Old Rishi headed up to Bury Market (or was that Burnley Market?!) earlier in the week to tell everyone what a marvellous job he'd done with the Autumn budget so I thought you'd appreciate a note from the real boss in his absence.

To be honest with you (as I always am), I was the one hoping for all the limelight this week - just look at me in front of that enormous hydrogen-fuelled tractor looking so prime ministerial - but somehow everyone's too busy slapping Rishi on the back and forgetting that I am on a mission to save humanity from the catastrophic impacts of Climate Change, not fiddling around with dubious business rates cuts or changes to taper relief for Universal credit.

Well, time to stand aside Rishi, my premiership defining moment has arrived. COP26 is about to start, the world leaders have assembled, and, provided Nicola has bunged the train drivers enough to keep them from striking, we're all off to the Summit. I have to confess that I am rather nervous about the whole thing. I rather foolishly warned everyone that "Team World" is 5-1 down at half time in the global warming battle. Luckily, one of the interns at No.10 did an overnight trawl through the footballing archives and found that in 1957 Charlton Athletic (bless them) did actually recover from 5-1 down to win the game with only 27 minutes to go. And they only had ten men! So there you have it. We can tackle global climate change, but it does require the others to pull their weight and the list of no shows isn't exactly helping my message.

I have to admit that no-one seems very upset that Vladimir isn't attending, and Bolsonaro would have been a PR disaster, but the fact that Xi Jinping is only dialing in for a video call hardly helps with the choreography (and I bet they'll be the usual IT issues). Still, what really sticks in my throat is that some of those who are attending don’t exactly seem to be throwing their "full support" behind the UK Presidency. Emmanuel is using our little fishing rights squabble to question the UK's "credibility" to lead the Summit (when he's not busy detaining our fishing boats) and then I've got Christiana Figueres saying the UK budget gives the 'wrong signal' on the climate change. Yes, I had to look her name up too. But unfortunately she's the snappily titled "former head of UN efforts to rebuild global consensus around climate change", which means everyone in Glasgow is listening to her. It's not very helpful to question the cut in air passenger duty and accuse us of the least "green" budget in decades. I mean, how else does she expect business travellers to reach Northern Ireland. You can't just build a bridge or a tunnel now can you?

And don't even get me started on that "wee Jimmy Krankie" woman, Nicola. I organised this whole Summit business in Glasgow just to keep her off my back and gave Scotland an extra £4.6bn a year in the budget. And, despite this incredible generosity, she is still harking on about "Tory Austerity" and 7.1% of real term budget cuts. When I accused her of some brazen creative accounting, she had the audacity to remind me of the Brexit bus. That was way below the sporran.

Anyway, the only issue with my Grand Plan to be the most popular PM ever is that whilst Rishi is currently basking in the glory of his big budget giveaway, I am stuck in a Glasgow hotel room (you can't go out at the moment for all the rats) praying that I can pull off a Summit miracle. Brutus (that’s my nickname for Rishi - but don’t tell anyone) even got all the credit for cutting alcohol duty and turning on the beer taps. That was clearly my idea! After all, Rishi's idea of letting his hair down is half a pint of Sprite and an occasional twix if his daily step-count is high enough.

Carrie always says that, whilst she loves my more cuddly appearance, his sharp-suited, tee-total image does rather show me up on occasions. You know, he even goes on a Britney Spears inspired, calorie-burning spin class at 6am every morning followed by a self-righteous sounding breakfast of Greek Yoghurt and fresh blueberries. I struggle to brush my hair and keep my shirt tucked in, so just how do I compete with that? Then again, if we are talking bikes then surely the fact that half of London's bicycles are named after me trumps that one. And, with "Boris Bikes" being 100% eco-friendly, my credentials for this week’s climate discussions are unimpeachable.

Anyway I'd better get down to the SEC and start persuading my fellow world leaders to commit to net zero. At least I've got Arnie on my side if any of them need a little extra persuasion (!) and hopefully my president, Alok Sharma, has laid most of the groundwork already by flying around the world building alliances. He's certainly burned through the air miles. I had to sign off his expenses bill the other day and it was eye-watering!

Valeas quam optime

In proximum

Boris