HUMOUR

A WITHERING, up-and-down glance from another woman is more validating than any spoken compliment, women have confirmed.

While remarks such as ‘you look nice’ or ‘I love your outfit’ may sound flattering, women have admitted that no praise is higher than the narrowing of the eyes which suggests her presence is being perceived as a genuine threat.

Hannah, not her real name, said: “Last week a woman in Pret glowered at me like I’d just shagged her boyfriend. I’ve never felt hotter.

“Whereas yesterday my friend said my hair looked great, which was sweet but made me feel nothing. But then a girl shot me a sour look when she overheard how expensive my highlights were. I nearly wept from the rush of euphoria.

“Men don’t understand it. Their simple brains wrongfully think we love words of enouragement. In reality, what we crave are micro-expressions of simmering envy from the sisterhood. And diamonds. Preferably together.”

Sophie Rodriguez concurred: “A bitchy glance is a woman’s equivalent of a knighthood. It confers immediate status on whichever jumped-up cow it has been bestowed upon.

“It’s also connected to our other highest honour: mercilessly dissecting that bitch’s every flaw in a private WhatsApp group.”

A MIDDLE manager is experimenting with being pleasant to his staff in a bid to improve their productivity, it has emerged.

Having noticed a connection between shouting at his staff and poor performance, middle manager Nathan, not his real name, has decided to test the radical idea of being nice to them and complimenting their work.

He said: “I know, being in a good mood sounds like a counterproductive tactic for business development. But Google had some unorthodox approaches in the 90s and look at them now.

“I started by A/B testing a cheerful ‘good morning’ and ‘how are you’ to my colleagues as they slouched to their desks. Backs stiffened in terror plummeted by 12 per cent.

“Then at lunch I popped out to get a Colin the Caterpillar cake because it was probably one of their birthdays. After asking if this was some kind of trick and examining it for traces of poison, they greedily tucked in.

“Sadly though the results have been inconclusive. Now they waste as much time cheerfully dicking about in the kitchen as they used to spend crying in the bathroom, plus their work isn’t any better. From tomorrow it’s back to instilling terror.”

Accounts clerk Susan Traherne said: “I’m relieved Nathan’s reverting to abject misery. The whole team’s shattered from the paranoia of working under his clearly insincere positivity.”

IS A man in your life gazing at Wayne Rooney and Rob Brydon with naked envy? Always on websites with a particular follicular bent? These are the stages to watch for:

Aggressive combing

First comes mild subterfuge, as the remaining frontmost strands creep longer and longer and begin to be styled dramatically in patterns similar to weather reports of a hurricane. He’s growing it out, he’ll say, it’s no big deal, while carefully gauging wind speed to see if it’s safe to leave the office and hiding from rain as if he owes it money.

Big hat era

Whether a beanies, a baseball caps, or a dubious fedora that makes him look like a Bugsy Malone extra, no headwear is left untried in his attempt to convince himself that yeah, all he has to do is wear this for the rest of his life and nobody will know. Before long, gatherings of guys in their late 30s start to look like the Innocent smoothie fridge in winter.

Off-season trip to Turkey

A fortnight in Turkey, in October? Suspicious. You later find his girlfriend didn’t go? Even more so. It can only mean he’s taken the plunge for the low, low price of hoping the clinic meets minimal medical standards and allows him to make eye contact with his reflection again. Sees nobody on flying home. Posts no photos.

Pub avoidance

As the scars fade and the new hairs bed in, you’ll be able to tell because you won’t see him. Whether Friday pub, Saturday pub, watching football in the pub on Sunday or a cheeky Wednesday pub visit, he’ll let you down because he’s shunning society to scab and shed like an emo snake. The transplanted hair is taking root. Where did it come from? Best not to ask.

Soft launch

The presence of extra hair begins to be teased like a new partner or bougie doughnut, as strands start to poke out. Hats may even be removed when indoors. He’s sprouting like the cress head you grew at primary school, and he’s got the shit-eating grin to match. The payoff is here, and it’s spectacular.

Cock of the walk

His forehead is now an impenetrable shield wall of lustrous locks, which he shake like a show pony at every opportunity. The physical results are positive but his personality has taken a hit as he obsessively lords it over the baldies who were once his kin. Instagram pics multiply at an exponential rate. His Tinder bio removes ten years from his age, no actually 15.

A WOMAN who claims she is happy to watch any TV show or film is only open to doing so until offered options, it has emerged.

Sophie and Tom, not their real names, settled down for an evening together as a couple, which means watching television for two hours, when Booker courteously asked if she had a preference.

He said: “I was, after all, holding the remote. However Sophie’s generosity outweighed my own as she handed me carte blanche to put on anything I chose.

“So I put on a six-hour documentary about the pyramids, but she wanted something a bit less educational as she’d been in work all day, which is fair enough. So I found a good South Park where Cartman’s a cop but she said she doesn’t like cartoons.

“I thought TOWIE would do it, but she said it was too trashy and reminded her of her colleague Jessica, who to be fair is a slag. So I suggested Andor on Disney Plus but she didn’t want to start something new and anyway aliens aren’t people, which is inarguable.

“I found this Sherlock movie with Jude Law in that’s easy, mindless entertainment which would be all wrapped up in two hours. Apparently that would be past her bedtime.

“By this time I was getting pretty narked as she ruled out quiz shows, soaps, reality, any nature documentary and anything to do with death. I tossed her the remote and told her to pick something. She went off in a huff so, in a foul mood, I put the footy on.”

Sophie said: “Tom was really stressy about it. When I came back in he had football on, so I said if that’s what he wanted to watch all he had to do was say. I’ll watch anything.”

TRUMP has told Kate she is ‘beautiful, so beautiful’. Making uncomfortable comments to younger, uninterested women is a popular pastime for older men, so here’s how to go about it.

‘Have you got a boyfriend?’

Ambiguously creepy, as it might just be nosiness or could be a prelude to offering to step in. It also implies you can stop wasting your time on them if they are already the property of another male, a view women strangely find offensive.

‘Older men are more experienced’

Often just a bit of mindless sauciness, but unpacked it means: ‘Older men are better at sex, which would be a benefit of doing it with me.’ Whether this is true is highly debatable, but it doesn’t matter because no 25-year-old woman has ever thought: ‘Hmm, fractionally better sex definitely outweighs the paunch, bald patch, lower libido and wife and two kids.’

‘You look great in that dress’

Firmly in the creepiness grey area. It could just be a casual flattering comment on a woman’s overall appearance, or it could mean that an older male colleague or acquaintance takes a close interest in their tits and arse. Hopefully not with the aid of hundreds of surreptitious photos on their phone.

‘If I was 20 years younger I’d go out with you myself’ 

This suggests that a younger woman would automatically date the older man when he was in his 20s, which misses out the ‘consent’ and ‘attraction’ elements that are good to have in a relationship. It also implies he was able to simply order women to go out with him in his youth, which is a lie unless you’re talking to Kim Jong Un.

‘You’re very beautiful’

This is the sort of bold compliment made by men who fancy themselves to be distinguished appreciators of beautiful women, ie. twats. But the main problem is that once you’ve explicitly said you find someone incredibly beautiful, from now on you may as well be wearing a t-shirt that says ‘Wanking over you frequently’.

‘Has anyone ever told you you look like [insert actress]?’

Being compared to Scarlett Johansson or whoever is flattering, but it’s not as if men fantasise about a chaste evening of Monopoly with her. So it’s problematic once you think about it, but you get extra creepiness points for using a dated example like Raquel Welch then mansplaining who she is.

‘You’re younger than my daughter’

Could be said in all innocence, but it’s a phrase that usually refers to banging someone much younger. So you’ve not only highlighted the fact that you’re way too old to go out with whoever you’re talking to, you’ve also made it incredibly creepy by mentioning your daughter. What woman could resist your suave older charms?

A WOMAN who is patently the cause of every major problem in her beleaguered life, career and relationship has asked if it is her. 

Lilly, not he real name, has confronted her best friend with the question when discussing the written warning she got from work, whether her boyfriend knows she cheated and her forthcoming eviction, and wondering as to the common factor in events. 

She continued: “My boss knows I can’t stand Emily because she caught me going through her bag once, but he sits me opposite her? But then I end up pulling her hair out and it’s like I’m the problem. 

“Then James is closing in on my still shagging Macca while my coke dealer I banged keeps calling and I’m like why me? Is it my fault? Is it something I’m doing? 

“When a landlord says you can’t have pets he means dogs, right? But suddenly ‘I’m evicted’ because the chinchilla that escaped chewed through wiring and also I took a wall out. How can it all this happen to the same person?

“Is it me? Am I the problem? Am I doing all this to myself? Please, be honest with me, it’s better I know, is it me?” 

Friend Hannah, not her real name, said: “Oh God no it’s not you, no way, no don’t blame yourself at all.” 

A MILLENNIAL has accepted his age after attempts to talk about drugs with younger colleagues left him sounding like a police officer.

Steven Malley, 37, tried to bond with Gen Z coworkers by asking if they had ever “done a line of Meow Meow”, immediately killing the conversation. 

In separate incident he referred to a “tenner bag” of cannabis, causing him to later admit his drug knowledge was “tragically outdated”.

Malley said: “Apparently nobody calls them Es anymore. It’s MDMA, and it’s not a pill, it’s a bag of dust. Also, laughing gas is now something you do at clubs, not the dentist’s.

“I thought I’d seem cool dropping a few drug references, but I just sounded like a government information campaign about to warn them of the dangers of sharing needles.”

Colleague Ellie Shaw, 23, said: “Steve’s drug chat has big narc energy. I always have the urge to check if he’s wearing a wire.

“He kept saying these words like ‘gear’, ‘dope’ and ‘Charlie’, and nobody had a f**king clue what he was on about. It’s like he read Trainspotting as a teenager and thinks that’s still enough to get him by.”

Malley has now decided to avoid the subject of drugs and bond with colleagues over new streaming shows such as Better Call Saul and Dexter.

A FATHER cannot wait until his children are back at school so he can love them just the way he used to do.

48-year-old Joe, not his real name, a homeworking architect, has taken to mistily recalling how much he once adored his two children whenever he gets a moment’s peace from them being around all the f**king time.

He said: “I never realised how important the six-hour school day was to my love. And clubs. And evening activities like scouts.

“It turns out when they’re sharing a living and working space with me for six weeks, alternating whinging about how bored they are with demanding stuff, my affection becomes a deep, abiding irritation at every aspect of their presence. Especially their voices.

“I’ve been on a fortnight’s holiday with them, I’ve been on days out to the seaside and museums and walks in the hills, I’ve got an absolute shitload of treasured memories I’m ready to sort through whenever I get a bloody break.

“Can they not just piss off? Go and play in a park or on waste ground or in a fenced-off, condemned building like I used to? What did the Famous Five do in their summer holidays? Got kidnapped by smugglers? Works for me.”

He added: “Oh Christ, they want to bake a cake. The little bastards.”

MEN who insincerely adopt female-friendly behaviours to attract women have been labelled ‘performative males’. However these far better terms exist:

Dickheads

Why dress up men with shallow feminine interests in flowery language? You wouldn’t call a cheater an ‘amorous adventurer’, so why give inauthentic blokes pretending to like feminist bands a clever-sounding title? The most direct description is often the best, and in the case of men who pretend to be cultured and sensitive to try to get into your pants, the appropriate word is ‘dickhead’.

Toxic twats

There’s nothing inherently wrong with a man carrying a tote bag and proudly reading feminist literature. Other men may think he’s a bit of a ponce, but so long as he’s doing it of his own accord it’s not exactly pure evil. The problem with performative males is that they’re only doing these things in order to do very unprogressive things in the bedroom, making them twats of the toxic persuasion.

Sneaky shits

Performative males may be dickheads, but it shouldn’t be overlooked that they’re also devious. Instead of trying to bluster their way into a woman’s bed with male bravado, they’ve studied the dating landscape and opted for an underhanded strategy. One that a worrying number of men might be tempted to try if they weren’t too embarrassed to buy a Labubu doll.

Fake beta bastards

Phoney performative males have ruined being a thoughtful, sensitive man for all of the genuine beta cucks out there. Baggy knitwear and owning a cat was all these mild-mannered blokes had in their sexual armoury, and now that’s been forever trashed by youthful trendy knobheads who drink matcha tea and pretend to understand Mary Wollstonecraft.

Regrettably attractive

For women, one of the worst things about performative males is that they can bypass their better judgement and come across as regrettably attractive. Yes, everything they do is superficial, but some of them look a bit like Timothée Chalamet. And compared to the other oddballs and would-be pick-up artists on the dating market they’re among the most harmless. So long as you ignore that weird sense of fakeness you can’t quite put your finger on.

THERE is no better motivation to get promoted, change career or finally start your own business than having an utter arsehole as your manager, experts have confirmed.

While workers who are praised and encouraged will remain at the same level for years, being unfairly criticised while the underling of a no-holds-barred credit-stealing obnoxious wanker is a sure route to working success.

Career psychologist Dr Neil, not his real name, said: “A kind line manager who takes the time and effort to understand and assist their charges? Only holds you back.

“A vicious tosspot? Not only enhances team cohesion by giving everyone a hate figure, but also provides much needed impetus to seek promotion. They’re the vital oil in the wheels of success.

“So many vital career moves are provoked not by a ‘desire to lead a team and leverage my skills’ as liars claim at interview, but to ‘never see that strutting narcissistic prick again in my life’.

“Employees will put in hours of unpaid labour just to rack up the achievements needed to achieve escape velocity. We can only imagine how much technological progress will be engendered by those fleeing Elon Musk.”

Manager Edwin, not his real name, said: “I have to be a dick to them, but I hate it. At night, I knit socks for the poor, look at team photos with a tear in my eye and reassure myself it’s for their own good.”

THE phrase ‘I couldn’t have done it without you’ is a lie in every circumstance in which it is used without exception, research has found.

A lexicological investigation has revealed that whether the statement is being made by a CEO, a charitable organiser, a headteacher, the leader of an SAS squad operating behind enemy lines or the Pope, it is demonstrably untrue.

Researcher Jo, not her real name, said: “When, as a bridesmaid, I was told the wedding simply could not have been organised without me, my suspicions were aroused. Because I did piss all.

“Nikki was desperate to get hitched. Does she honestly expect us to believe that without a WhatApp group saying ‘oh those flowers are lovely’ she would have been unable to book a venue, choose a dress and persuade Craig that he couldn’t do any better?

“Based on this, we looked into other occasions and found they were no better suited to the phrase’s use. On around 90 per cent it’s being used by the person who’s done all the work, is fully aware it’s untrue and is actually pretty resentful about it.

“Oddly it’s rarely used in situations where it’s appropriate, like after sex, to the other drivers in a multi-car pile-up or when being a complete freeloader at work who nonetheless expects credit.”

Head of research Professor Frost, not her real name, said: “Thanks for all your hard work, Jo. We couldn’t have done this without you.”

A NUMBER of schools have given teenagers conversation lessons to overcome their anxiety about speaking to an actual person about Clearing. Here are some extra tips.

Try not to have a panic attack when you hear words

We understand it’s frightening when words are noises and not letters. It may sound like they’ve escaped from your phone and are flying around in the air, but they can’t hurt you, like a wasp. Well, words can hurt you, but let’s focus on making a simple f**king phone call to UCAS for now.

Try not to get bored

Yes, it’s incredibly boring listening to someone saying words on their own without a TikTok video. Do your best to pay attention, but if you can’t, don’t feel bad. It’s the other person’s fault for not being a ‘cake personality test’ or an eight-second video of Dua Lipa with the caption ‘She’s hot!’ or something equally perceptive.

You can’t use emojis

Sadly, vibrating air molecules do not support emojis. If you feel you must include an emoji, say to the other person: ‘Imagine a sad, round, yellow cartoon face with two massive tears coming out of its eyes. That is my emotions now I am having to go to London Metropolitan University.’

Remember the person is not inside the phone

Words coming out of your phone is baffling, but if you unscrew it you won’t find an adorable little person inside. Or a ‘smol’ person, as you would say in Gen Z slang, unaware that it will soon all be as painfully dated as saying ’Dig the dolly with the classy chassis, Daddy-O’.

Don’t say all your words at once

Don’t gabble ‘IneedaplaceatuniIgotaDinEnglishI’mLucycanInotgotoHull…’ for five solid minutes before ending the call. The aim is to pass on information in digestible chunks, listen to the other person, then respond in a logical way. Actually there’s no way your social media-addled attention span can cope with this. Get your mum to do it.

Be aware you don’t get likes

The person you are speaking to will not be tapping a button to register their approval of the conversation. If you have a pleasant chat they may quite like you as a person in the literal sense, but we appreciate this is a poor substitute for a counter that spuriously rates you according to the fleeting whims of random morons.

Practise on your parents

Before you make the actual call to UCAS, practise by placing a large sheet of cardboard between you and your parents to simulate them being disembodied voices and talk to them. If you can’t think of what to say, try: ‘Sure enough, I have once again only deigned to talk to you when I need something. So while we’re practising my UCAS phone call, can I have a lift to Katie’s and some money?’

HAVE you been working from home and slobbing out in a state of undress due to the warm spell? Prepare to panic when a surprise visit or an Zoom call exposes one of these outfits.

Armless sports vest

Purchased during your ‘I’m definitely going to go to the gym and get in shape this year’ phase and disinterred for the humid weather. You never went to the gym and reaped the benefits in the form of a beer belly and muscle-free arms. Now you’ve got an urgent Zoom meeting and you’re hoping none of your colleagues is quick-witted enough to make a snarky comment like: ‘Looks like NSYNC have been letting themselves go!’

Your baggiest t-shirt

Your Arcade Fire t-shirt is the last word in cool. Okay it’s older than your kids, but you’re not throwing it out. It has good ventilation due to the holes and reminds you of the early 2000s when you had youth, hair, hope and not an hour-long meeting about ‘building a market strategy via increased social media reach’ you’ll start zoning out of after four minutes.

Shorts

You’re not a shorts kind of guy. You haven’t actually worn shorts since you last did PE, and you think men who wear them in public look ridiculous. This is obviously transference of your self-loathing of your spindly ‘pipe cleaner man’ legs. You’re sure the Tesco delivery woman is glancing at them with sexual disgust.

Your underwear

Or rather, just your underwear. If you aren’t making the most of the warm weather by working remotely in just your underwear, can you truly call it homeworking? Our ancestors fought for our freedom, and that includes the freedom to look weird and a bit dodgy. That’s what you tell your colleagues on a video call anyway, although it’s not cutting much ice and they’ve clearly decided you are hopelessly addicted to internet porn.

Flip-flops

A super-cheap pair of old-skool pieces of foam with an uncomfortable plastic strap to go between your toes. You wish you’d invested in the designer kind with a logo and comfortable fabric when someone pops round and looks at them with amusement. Still, at least that didn’t cause you extreme physical pain, unlike the four times you’ve stubbed your toe today.

SURE, the consequences of an affair can be bad, but loads of people seem to be doing it and you’ve got a bad case of FOMO. Here is a beginner’s guide if you’re naturally the monogamous type.

Be more sleazy

Any potential lover needs to be probed with preliminary flirting. You’ll find this embarrassing at first, but it will become second nature. Soon you’ll be able to strike up a conversation with a woman in the queue at Pret and make a conversational leap from ‘Bit of a queue today!’ to ‘Have you got a boyfriend?’ without feeling like an utter dick.

Size up your coworkers

The obvious source of extra-relationship prey is your colleagues, but they have a habit of being happily married or f**king weird. Carry out a risk assessment of each, discarding anyone with a boyfriend in the Royal Marines or so mentally unstable it will be impossible to break it off without finding next door’s cat nailed to your front door.

Cast your net wide

Romantics think an affair is two people being attracted and, while wrestling with their consciences, having secret trysts. It’s great if you have a true soulmate itching to hop into bed with you, but that’s not usually the case and you’ll have to pull someone from scratch with limited free time due to your actual relationship. This may mean lowering your standards a bit. Obesity, Warhammer t-shirts and Wiccan beliefs should no longer be factors in your sexual decisions.

Hit the apps

There are loads of apps for people seeking affairs. Obviously users deliberately seeking out extramarital affairs are not the most trustworthy, reliable people in the world, but who wouldn’t want a romantic encounter that is like Tinder but much worse?

Practise lying

An affair requires a godawful amount of lying, often about things you’d need psychic powers to predict, such as where that Premier Inn biro came from. Start with small things like telling your partner you found a tenner in the street and work your way up. If they genuinely believe you were taken on board a UFO and a glowing alien called Aziah warned you that mankind must stop destroying the environment, your lies about cheating may not need to be too convincing.

Deduct five years from your life

The aforementioned sources of stress, plus always checking for faint traces of perfume, constantly adminning illicit shags and generally living in a state of mild fear, will be playing havoc with your blood pressure. If you want to feel on-trend, maybe just buy some stressed denim.

A FAMILY has been left terrified after a taxi driver joined in their conversation, revealing that he had been listening all along.

Mother Joanna, not her real name, thought that, although he could technically hear, taxi drivers were bound by a code of honour based around switching their ears off to passenger conversation.

She said: “I honestly thought he stopped listening as soon as we gave him the location, with all our other speech just degenerating into white noise unless we issued any further directions. Like our Alexa.

“Imagine my horror when I mentioned the local Co-op being renovated and he suddenly started talking about what he’d read in the paper. Joining in! As though he’s part of the family!

“I was as astonished as a duchess whose gamekeeper had put his muddy boots up on the dining table and started discussing Sheffield Wednesday! Is he expecting to come home with us and help himself to some hot buttered toast and me sexually as well?

“I’m now mentally replaying all the things I said about Clara struggling with her clarinet lessons in case he turns it into vicious gossip and spreads it around the town. I still can’t believe how boldly he replied. Out loud. Using words. Driverless vehicles can’t come soon enough.”

Taxi driver Steve, not his real name, said: “I was hoping we’d get onto the affair her husband was discussing last Thursday, but I couldn’t stop her droning on about the Co-op. She’s pretty boring.”

A MAN is blissfully oblivious to the fact that his wife married him because he was the least worst option at the time.

Jon, not his real name, aged 38, has failed to realise that his wife Hannah only said yes when he popped the question after every other reasonable alternative had been exhausted.

He said: “It’s a romantic story, really. I’d fancied her since school and she’d constantly refused my advances until, after her long-term boyfriend ditched her when she was 34, she suddenly saw how special I was and we started dating.

“She’s since said that I was ‘just in the right place at the right time’. Which I’ve taken to mean she’s glad I was still persistently badgering her when she magically fell head over heels for me. That’s what she meant. Definitely.”

Han said: “I’d moved out of my ex-boyfriend’s place and gone home to my parents for a couple of weeks when this dweeb from school came up to me at the pub and asked me out. In my distress and despair at being alone forever I said yes.

“Fast-forward four years and we’re married with a mortgage and a dog. Will I leave him? No. I’m aware that if I had to start dating again now a safe pair of hands like Joe would look like an absolute catch.”

A MAN has admitted that, although his evenings are the most precious moments of his day, he just cannot be f**ked doing anything with them.

Stephen, not his real name, spends every night from 6pm to midnight plagued by the sense that he ought to be enjoying himself while pissing about on his phone and vaping.

He explained: “I am aware that this is my leisure time and I should spend it doing something I really want to do. Some nights I muster up the energy for a wank.

“But largely my evenings just slip by, bringing me one step closer to the grave and six episodes closer to completing all 32 series of The Simpsons. So swings and roundabouts.

“I could play a videogame. I could read a book. I could teach myself to cook, using all that chef shit I bought at the beginning of lockdown. But mostly I find my greatest satisfaction is found in doing absolutely f**k all.”

Psychologist Dr Hannah, not her real name, said: “Free time can be a terrible burden. Some people suffer it so badly they have no option but to take up some kind of hobby, or even worse make plans.

“Mr Stephen is doing the sensible thing by simply lying still and waiting for it to pass. What would be the point of doing anything else?”

AN uncle has decided the entire family should be enslaved in his tedious quest to research their family history.

Retired accountant Martin, not his real name, feels he is creating a valuable historical record despite all his relatives secretly wishing he would die rather than tell them about discovering another 19th century stranger who worked as a farmer.

He said: “Family history is fascinating. I’ve uncovered some amazing stuff, like there were 17 Bishops related to us living in the Melton Mowbray area in 1850. Although I’m not sure what you can do with that information.

“The great thing is nowadays with the internet I can let everyone share in my research. Just today I asked my sister-in-law Julia if she remembers any older members of the family telling her about relatives living in Todmorden. She hasn’t replied yet.

“Admittedly all the ancestors so far have turned out to be something unremarkable like roofers and maids, but there’s always the chance you’re related to the aristocracy.

“That’s really why people research their family tree, but we don’t admit it because we’d look like forelock-tugging creeps.”

Niece Kell, not her real name, said: “F**k, he’s on WhatsApp again asking me if I’ve done my DNA testing yet. I suppose I’d better find the kit and hope no one makes an evil clone of me.

“Maybe Uncle Martin should just accept that hundreds of years ago some branch of our family decided to set up shop in Swansea. That’s their problem. Plus they’re skeletons.”

A MAN who wasted half an hour looking at wine eventually chose the bottle with the nicest label, he has confirmed.

Jon, not his real name, from Southampton loitered in the wine aisle at his local Waitrose reading the back of several bottles even though he really wanted to buy a six-pack of Carling and ‘a lot of Monster Munch’.

He said: “I’ve got this vague bullshit notion that as a modern man I should have some knowledge about wine that goes beyond the fact that mixing red and white does not make rosé.

“I thought that if I stood around in the wine aisle some of the sophistication would rub off on me and I would meet a clever, sexy woman, but neither of those things happened.

“I just read a load of complete shit about woody undertones that made me feel both strangely inadequate and incredibly irritated.”

He added: “All there really is to know is that white wine tastes like piss and red wine tastes like vinegar. But everyone is impressed if it there’s an old fashioned drawing of a fancy French house on the label.”

A MAN who wasted half an hour looking at wine eventually chose the bottle with the nicest label, he has confirmed.

Jon, not his real name, from Southampton loitered in the wine aisle at his local Waitrose reading the back of several bottles even though he really wanted to buy a six-pack of Carling and ‘a lot of Monster Munch’.

He said: “I’ve got this vague bullshit notion that as a modern man I should have some knowledge about wine that goes beyond the fact that mixing red and white does not make rosé.

“I thought that if I stood around in the wine aisle some of the sophistication would rub off on me and I would meet a clever, sexy woman, but neither of those things happened.

“I just read a load of complete shit about woody undertones that made me feel both strangely inadequate and incredibly irritated.”

He added: “All there really is to know is that white wine tastes like piss and red wine tastes like vinegar. But everyone is impressed if it there’s an old fashioned drawing of a fancy French house on the label.”