HUMOUR

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 has cultivated an enigmatic cult of personality by dialling into a Zoom call with his mic and camera off, it has emerged.

Sales manager Martin, not his real name, sent his co-workers into a frenzy of gossip and erotic longing after attending a weekly catch-up meeting without sharing his face and remaining shrouded in digital silence.

Colleague Joanna, not her real name, said: “It’s like having James Bond or Carlos Santana on the call. Even though they’d never be the sorts to give a f**k about Q2 revenue updates.

“Who are they? What do they look like? Are they single? I might have to turn my own mic and camera off as my mind runs rampant with sexual speculation.

“Perhaps he’s a brooding Heathcliff type, or maybe he’s a Banksy-esque figure whose cachet thrives on anonymity. Either way, it’s working. Nobody better tell him he’s on mute and shatter the steamy illusion.

“Even when he was asked to share his feedback he remained stubbornly silent, like a sexy dissident intellectual in 60s Prague. I’m ready to shitcan my husband and kids over him.”

Martin said: “My laptop’s knackered. So I just sat in my pants eating Doritos and watching videos of dogs riding skateboards on my phone.”

A WOMAN’S friend has once again infuriated her by providing useful advice instead of listening to her complaints in a supportive manner.

Hannah, not her real name, rage is building after hanging out with her friend Karen, not her real name, , who had the nerve to provide constructive insights into her petty gripes rather than appropriately indulging in her misery by having a moan.

Han said: “If I wanted advice I’d ask for it. Otherwise Ellie’s supposed to nod along and say ‘that’s so f**king annoying’ or ‘what a twat’ when I catch my breath.

“Instead though she’s breaking down my problems into easily fixable steps and guiding me through how I can prevent them from happening again in the future. The helpful bitch.

“She’s always been like this. When I got dumped she was all kind and sympathetic, and when I got passed over for promotion she pointed out that the role would have been more stress than it’s worth. Can’t she be a bitter hag like me for a second?

“It’s got to the point where I want to scream in her face, but even then she’d probably be really understanding and offer useful feedback. I’m starting to question why I’m even friends with her.”

Shaw said: “That vein on Karen’s temple is really starting to throb. I better advise her to drink some herbal tea, that’ll calm her down.”

A PAMPERED office worker is daydreaming of ditching his desk job for manual labour that would immediately destroy him.

IT worker Joseph, not his real name, whose most strenuous daily task involves adjusting his ergonomic chair, is idly fantasising about ruining his fragile body by becoming something more manly like a welder, bricklayer or hod carrier.

He said: “Working in a role that won’t wreck me by the time I’m 40 is fine enough. But there’s something truly noble about lugging around sacks of concrete while being shouted at by a guy called Gaz.

“Slowly responding to tickets in a condescending manner while putting minimal strain on my joints doesn’t command the same respect as toiling away on a construction site. Plus the banter is just memes sent over Slack, and none of it’s delightfully problematic.

“Admittedly, I don’t own a toolbox and my soft, delicate hands have never even changed a lightbulb, but how punishing can bone-grinding manual labour actually be? I did the first week of Couch to 5K a couple of years ago which shows I’m physically capable.

“Oh, who am I kidding, I just want to be paid to read the Sunday Sport in a van.”

Plasterer Wayne, not his real name, said: “Joseph’s welcome to swap with me. I’ve always fantasised about earning shitloads for telling people to restart their computers.”

A GROUP of office workers is genuinely puzzled by the relationship success of a total dickwad they work with, it has emerged. 

Colleagues cannot comprehend how sales executive Tom, not his real name, consistently attracts girlfriends despite his seemingly female-unfriendly interests of cars, Maxim magazine and fart-related humour.

Co-worker Emma, not her real name, said: “He once talked to me for 15 minutes about his new tyres without noticing I’d put my earphones in.

“Weirdly though I quite like him, even though I hate myself for it. Maybe it’s a masochistic thing.”

Fellow colleague Martin, not his real name, said: “My theory was that Tom behaves totally differently in front of women he wants to impress, but I’ve seen him trying to chat someone up by asking ‘What’s your best Top Gear episode?’.

“Also his sense of humour exclusively involves farts. If you find the expressions ‘silent but violent’ or ‘letting off an eggy one’ completely hilarious he’s your dream date.

“I guess his appeal is one of those unsolved mysteries of life, like the Bermuda Triangle or how they built those Inca temples.”

A WORKER who made a mistake did not then try to bullshit her way out of the situation, it has emerged.

Accounts executive Hannah, not her real name, left a document containing confidential client information on a photocopier. When questioned by her boss, she admitted it was a careless mistake on her part and then got a bollocking.

Colleague Roy, not his real name, said: “I don’t understand why she didn’t try to shift the blame, pretend she did it deliberately for some obscure reason or simply deny it ever happened.

“You don’t admit to doing things wrong, even things that are undeniably your fault, because that is not how the world works. She’s just thrown away her career and, by extension, her chance of a meaningful life.

“Perhaps she is mentally ill.”

Team leader Nikki, not her real name, said: “I can only think Mary is playing some sort of a long game. I bet she read a business book that says revealing your weaknesses can be a smart strategic move because it makes people want to tell you their secrets, or something.

“Nobody at work does anything without a devious, self-serving hidden motive. I’m going to be watching that bitch like a hawk.”

DO you feel a minor conviction might give you some much-need street cred? Get yourself nabbed for one of these misdemeanours:

Fishing without a licence

Fishing is a pretty nerdy hobby, but you can up your stats as a dangerous rebel a notch by doing it illegally. Why should you pay for a rod licence anyway? You don’t need a jam-jar licence for catching a spider. Being collared by a bailiff will prove you’re a devil-may-care rebel who’s really sticking it to the system. But mainly the fish.

Protesting

Being hassled by the pigs for opposing social injustice will increase your coolness and probably your sex appeal. You’ll probably only end up with a caution, and your story can grow bigger with every telling. Just be sure to pick a worthy cause like Gaza or a counter-fascist demo. A Stop The Boats rally will mark you down as a weird racist, and Just Stop Oil has a very middle-class image. Plus you might be a victim of Starmer’s fascist anti-protest tendencies and get 12 years for chucking soup on perspex.

Low-level cannabis possession

Being arrested for having a nominal quantity of weed for personal use will prove you’re down with the kids. Except your thumbnail-sized piece of black is something they’ll think only old people smoke as they inhale proper Lemon Haze skunk. Still, you’ll feel like a rock star – they’re mostly old and past-it now too – although that’s scant compensation for all the pinhole burns in your favourite top.

Streaking at a cricket match

Cricket is boring as f**k, so liven the occasion up a bit by getting pissed, stripping off and running around the pitch to cheers from similarly inebriated spectators. Just be careful not to get too close to the actual players, unless you want your adventure to end with a bat-shaped bruise across your arse. A moderate fine is the most likely outcome, but the real punishment will be sobering up and realising you’re on every TV news bulletin. Tits are always a crowd-pleaser, but men run the risk of the whole nation knowing what an unimpressive penis you have.

Illegal street art

Banksy would be up to his eyeballs in muff if groupies knew who he was. Improve on his badly thought-out strategy by spray-painting a crude mural on a wall then signing with your name. You’ll become an instant aerosol-wielding anti-hero, so you might get a shag before your inevitable public humiliation as the magistrates give you a community order and make you scrub off your graffiti like a naughty child.

Knocking out pirate DVDs

Hollywood actors make a shitting fortune, so stick it to the capitalist regime by copying loads of movies to sell, then realising no one watches DVDs anymore. You might be able to target the market niche of people who like a shelf of actual physical DVDs, but then you’ll have to copy special edition extras like a book of HR Giger art which is a huge faff. It doesn’t help that all the popular franchises are looking spent at the moment, and the courts are unlikely to waste their time on someone with 30 unsold copies of The Mandalorian & Grogu.

A MAN who has spent 16 years in London has moved back to Wolverhampton so he can be closer to those who do not earn nearly as much money as he does.

Highly paid strategy manager Will, not his real name, has ostensibly returned to the West Midlands city to be near his elderly parents, where he can also afford a four-bedroom house and has an income in the top three per cent.

He said: “I’ve fitted mum’s bathroom with handrails. Now which of my old school pals who never made it anywhere wants to go for a drink?

“I moved here out of necessity, obviously, not because I was in a one-bedroom flat in a shithole area which was miraculously worth £350k. But it really is good to reconnect with people and see how they’ve turned out. I’ll buy the drinks! They cost basically nothing!

“It seems most of my peers are working in retail or as hairdressers, which makes me chuckle as it’s exactly what I would have expected. But it’s much more relaxing than hanging out with people who pay £35 for a negroni without f**king blinking.

“‘I’m just like you,’ I tell my old friends. ‘I still work, albeit only three days a week, and take my old dad to football once in a while. Now is there anyone else I’ve not touched base with? Ideally who’s even more of a loser than you?’”

Former classmate Mary, not her real name, said: “Hey, you’ll never guess who’s back in Wolves. Willy Pissypants? Remember, who weed himself in Year Nine maths?”

WANT to feel better about life without having to repeat wafty nonsense to yourself on a regular basis? Try these instead…

“I acknowledge that other people are fucking stupid, not me.”

Acknowledgement is important in affirmations, but you should affirm something that will help you get through the day without punching some idiot in the face.

“Happiness is a choice. Which is easier to make after two bottles of Shiraz.”

Whether happiness is a choice or not will never be definitively answered, but it’s an actual fact that you’ll feel better about life when you’re a bit pissed.

“I am blessed with incredible children but it doesn’t mean they aren’t little shits sometimes.”

It’s very important to count your blessings, but it’s equally as important to be in touch with reality and not so desperate to think positive thoughts that you let your kids act like bellends in public.

“I radiate an aura of hostility so leave me alone, dickheads.”

People who like affirmations believe your thoughts create your life, so enjoy living in an oasis of calm by repelling twats before they can even get near you.

“I wake up every day and wish I could spend the whole day in bed.”

Affirmations work best if you repeat them immediately after you wake up, so do this one enough and your office will probably burn down sooner or later.

A MAN is under the impression it is cool to pretend his husband is the boss of him.
Kevin, not his real name, frequently says things like “I’ll have to check with my manager” and “I’ll see if I’m allowed” even though his husband does not really care what he gets up to.
Kevin, 53, said: “I’ve been given permission to go for a drink with my mate Martin, not his real name, on Friday. Looks like I’m off the leash!”
However Kevin’s’ husband Kah Heng, not his real name, said: “I’ve overheard Kev saying he needs to ask me before going out for a drink. No, he doesn’t. He’s a grown man and after 20 years I still have no idea where he gets this from.”
Friends verified that Kev’s actions make him seem immensely feeble and somehow chauvinistic at the same time. They went on to say that, after asking him, it turned out he had never not been allowed to do things.
Kevin added: “It’s cool to seem like you’re henpecked and in fear of your husband. I’ve seen it on classic American sitcoms so it must be true.”

TELEPHONE calls are rarely made by anyone except annoying twerps these days, and for good reason. Here’s why.

Messaging exists

Why phone someone when you could text them? Or send them a WhatsApp message? Or hit them up on Snapchat? Or contact them via Facebook Messenger? There’s a dizzying array of messaging options. Alternatively you can bellow at full volume in a train carriage to prove you’re a big swinging dick in the business world, when actually you’re a middle-management nobody from Swansea.

The signal is always crap

Smartphones are incredible pieces of technology which sadly have yet to crack the ability to make a clear call that does not drop out every 30 seconds. Even the briefest of chats involves you straining to listen to a muffled voice while you shout at the caller to speak up and say that again. Hopefully the next iPhone will do away with the useless calling feature altogether, much like the headphone jack. Haha, remember how you used to have wires coming out of your head like a 1970s sci-fi android?

They’re really inconvenient

Messages respect your time. They pop up on your phone and let you reply at your leisure, or not at all if you feel like ghosting your ex. Meanwhile phone calls are the equivalent of someone dropping in unannounced and barging into your living room to grill you about something you’re unprepared for. And if you don’t pick up somehow you’re the rude one.

There’s barely anything worth talking about

Most telephone conversations could easily be boiled down to a swift exchange of information. Not even the most salacious bit of gossip merits hours of yapping, and don’t let your conversation-starved partner try to convince you otherwise. And if a work task is that complicated, like building a suspension bridge, maybe it merits meeting in person? Emergency 999 calls are the obvious exception, but even then you could shave off a couple of minutes by not banging on about the victim not breathing.

Everyone’s riddled with anxiety

Mainly due to dickheads bombarding them with telephone calls. Are they going to get fired or dumped if they pick up? Nobody knows. And it’s not until they’ve sat through a rambling conversation about sales figures or what to pick up from Sainsbury’s for dinner and hung up that they know they’re in the clear. Alexander Graham Bell has a lot to answer for, and not just his eugenicist leanings.

IT’S Monday morning and your inbox is full of treasures. Here are five emails to make you grateful you opened Outlook:

URGENT MUST BE DONE BEFORE EOP FRIDAY

There’s nothing more energising than an email that came in two minutes after you pissed off on Friday, signalling that you’re going to get a bollocking from your manager for not anticipating that you needed to stay late… for something some shitbrain had forgotten.

Annual leave request – denied

Everything’s automated nowadays, to the extent that HR now just sends out blanket emails telling you that no, you can’t go to your sister’s wedding in August because it might be ‘a busy time in the office’. Meaning more important people haven’t booked their holidays yet.

Re: re: Project that never ends

Sorry, could you take one last look at this spreadsheet? Have another run at this PowerPoint? Send a kiss-arse email to the client again? Shall we all go back to first principles on this one? This work nightmare won’t f**k off no matter how what. The best you can do it pass it to someone you hate before you leave.

Not what I asked for

Incidentally, that thing you were working on for five days straight? Yeah, it’s not what your project manager wanted at all and there are 531 comments on the document to that effect. He’s keen to stress that there might be something salvageable in it, though. Maybe a whole sentence.

Book your casual meeting with downsizing consultant

The rumours of restructuring have been flying and lo and behold, they’ve got some corporate genius in to sort the wheat from the chaff. Time to spend days preparing for an ostensibly friendly chat that will decide if you have a job or not in six weeks time.

EVERY man in a heterosexual relationship is by default punching above his weight, research has shown.

An eight-year project by the Institute for Studies shows that men routinely break wind, scratch inappropriately and engage in futile fantasy football competitions, while women radiate charm, pleasantness and a nice floral scent.

Professor Frost, not her real name, said: “In every heterosexual pairing, there is one individual who moisturises, listens and has soft, wonderful bosoms. The other is a man.

“The discrepancy is staggering. While women are serene goddesses running entire households, comforting distressed pets and remembering their partner’s blood type, they are shackled to porn-addicted, Xbox-obsessed troglodytes.

FEELING like a worthless, pathetic weakling after ordering half a pint? Start rebuilding your dignity with these tips.

Say it was a joke

Ha! A big strapping burly bloke like you ordering a mere half! Imagine! This is clearly a hilarious prank that you’re pulling on somebody, although it’s unclear who. Ride out the confusion by loudly laughing to yourself and slapping your knee, then swagger off to the bathroom for a massive slash. That’ll underline the irony of that measly half.

Explain that you’re driving

The barman didn’t ask you to explain anything, but you feel compelled to do so for the sake of your reputation. Without context the half is a disgraceful affront to your identity, however once you make it clear that you shortly need to drive home your name will be saved. You’re just squeezing in the most alcohol you can legally consume before then, which is perfectly respectable.

Pretend it’s for someone else

Make your scapegoat someone believable, like a young child or a woman. They’re notoriously incapable of necking a whole pint. If neither of them are to hand, say it’s for your mate who’s popped out for a fag then secretly drink it while the barman isn’t looking. Then wait 20 minutes before getting another round in to avoid suspicion.

Down it like a shot

Half pints are only embarrassing if sipped on like a regular pint. If you down it in one swift gulp like a shot, you’ll not only retain your dignity, you’ll likely impress everyone in the bar at the same time. They’ll probably carry you down the street on their shoulders while chanting your name, such is their level of admiration for your drinking prowess.

Order a pint

Making up the shortfall by ordering another half won’t fix things. You need to completely undo the wrong by ordering a proper quantity of alcohol. Once there’s room in the pint, tip the half in and shamefully drop the little empty glass off at the bar. Unfortunately this won’t stop the regulars calling you something stupid like ‘Half-pint Harry’ for the rest of your life.

BRITAIN’S teachers are basking in the satisfaction of the summer holidays, which they agree is the most rewarding part of their job.

Teachers, who actually get far more gratification from not working than instilling a lifelong love of learning in children, are feeling humbled by the prospect of a month and a half of doing bugger all.

Year 5 teacher Julian, not her real name, said: “Six weeks of lie-ins during the nicest time of the year? Jobs don’t get more fulfilling than that.

“Sometimes, during the daily grind of trying to get through to a room full of 30 screeching little shits, I admit I do question why I’m in this profession. But it’s times like this, on the brink of freedom, when it all feels worthwhile.”

Secondary school teacher Susan Traherne said: “This is the reason I got into teaching. Not for the impact I make on kids or the salary, which are both practically meaningless. 

“No, I’m in it for the warm, fuzzy feeling which comes from telling non-teachers that the year is about to end and watching their jealous, sickened faces.

“The only reason they don’t mention the summer holidays in adverts for teachers is that the industry would be swamped with applicants. This is also why we pretend marking is really difficult when it’s actually a piece of piss.”

CHILDREN across the country are excited for a long, magical summer of being cared for by whoever is available.

As the school holidays begin, a whole generation is prepared for a formative season of visiting the same maritime museum four times with two sets of grandparents, just like in the stories.

Ten-year-old  Caden, not his real name, said: “Perhaps I’ll be sailing on a lake in a homemade raft, or meeting a mysterious boy who seems to live in a treehouse, or perhaps watching Flog It!in a darkened room with an 85-year-old.

“I asked Granny if me and my sister could go and wander around on railway tracks unsupervised, like in the film she made us watch, and she said that if we were good all week then on Friday she’d take us to Waitrose cafe.”

Children across the country are struggling to find life-shaping experiences from clowns in shopping centres, craft tables at libraries and three-hour trips to mum’s office to draw quietly with highlighters.

Mother-of-three Inge, not her real name,  said: “One summer is like a whole lifetime to a little kid being grudgingly looked after by obligated relatives in shifts.

“My little ones will learn to live, love and laugh together. From watching Spongebob.”

UNDER the age of 18 and worried how you’ll ever see funbags again when porn sites ask for age verification? Follow these simple steps.

Watch Titanic

You’ll have to go to the trouble of streaming it and skipping to an hour in, but that’s nothing compared to the lengths people would go to to see a tit in the pre-internet age. The brief, classy shots of Kate Winslet’s chest may seem tame by today’s standards, but it would do today’s youth good to revisit the classics of softcore porn. They’ve been spoiled with their diet of Angela White, anal orgies and futanari videos.

Forage in bushes

It’s hard to believe, but as recently as 20 years ago foraging in bushes was one of the most popular ways to clap eyes on a pair of knockers. Thanks to thousands of good samaritans across Britain, scraps of pages from Mayfair and Razzle were free to be plucked from the nation’s shrubbery by horny teens who didn’t have the balls to purchase a top-shelf magazine from the newsagents. Perhaps age checks will lead to a smutty rewilding.

Visit an art gallery

Art galleries are simply rooms where posh people go to look at classy filth. They may pretend to be admiring the composition and brushwork of a painting, but in reality they’re mentally gawping at some huge naturals from yesteryear. There’ll probably be some distracting crap in the background like cherubs or the French Revolution, but in time you’ll tune this out like a pop-up ad for LiveJasmin.

Buy the Sunday Sport

The Sun used to be a reliable way for teenagers to get their first glimpse of bare jugs, but sadly today the curves of page three models are hidden away underneath skimpy bikinis and revealing lingerie. Mercifully, the Sunday Sport is carrying on the proud tradition of newspapers printing tits galore, and this fine publication has even been so kind as throw in some fannies for readers. Who needs Brazzers? Moving pictures are probably just a fad, like Skibidi Toilet. 

Go on most of the internet

Melons are not the preserve of Pornhub or XVideos. You won’t need to forge a passport or steal your dad’s debit card if you’re desperate to still see chesticles online. With minimal effort you can train social media algorithms to bombard you with an endless torrent of babylons, and with a couple of clicks you can switch off safe search and Google more boobs than you could ogle in 20 lifetimes. Seeing a boob in real life, however, will remain impossible.

THE nation’s employers have been deluged with a torrent of teenagers on work experience who do not know how to do the most basic of tasks.

Britain’s shops, offices and leisure centres are inundated by 15- to 17-year-olds who are there to learn about the working world and are doing so by sitting in a corner on their phones.

Jim Bates, manager of a dry ski slope, said: “I understand why we’re doing this in theory. It’s just in practice that it has no function whatsoever.

“I’ve taken on three teens who it appears believed they would get to ski about for free all day, and instead are resentfully handing out the wrong size boots or not grasping the principles of sweeping up. I’m just not sure who this helps?”

Customer Lucy Parry said: “It’s infuriating. These kids, recovering from months of high-pressure exams, should really be much better at carrying out tasks they’ve received minimal training for.

“If I were them I’d be skipping towards a week in a menial position they’re not being paid for. But instead they’re awkwardly loitering around the place and communicating in monosyllabic grunts. That’s a privilege you have to earn.

“The sooner they f**k off to university and I can complain about them being woke and getting pissed all the time, the better.”

A CHILD with trendy parents who uses their first names instead of ‘mum’ and ‘dad’ is having a chilling effect on people.

Seven-year-old Tom parents Richard and Helena, not their real names, think it is progressive and egalitarian for him to use their real names, but in reality it is incredibly creepy.

Family friend Emma Bradford said: “The first time I heard Tom call his mum ‘Helena’ the blood turned to ice in my veins. They think it makes him grown-up but he sounds like a junior axe murderer.

“It’s just not natural. If you go round to their house it’s like they’re office workers who keep having meetings with one unusually small colleague.”

However Helena Booker said: “Treating Tom as an adult and equal is great for his development. That’s what it’s all about, not some utterly pathetic attempt to be different.

“It’s not creepy and Tom will not, as my father-in-law has suggested, ‘turn into Damien from The Omen’.” 

Professor Frost of the Institute for Studies said: “Hitler, Pol Pot and Genghis Khan all called their parents by their first names. Correlation doesn’t show causality, but there’s no smoke without fire.”

BACKS just hurt, people in their 30s have been told.

Doctors have confirmed that near-constant shoulder and spine pain is a fact of life for anyone in their 30s, is not in any way treatable or cureable and will remain for the rest of their lives.

Dr Helen Archer said: “You can stop Googling it and stretching. Backs just hurt when you’re over 30, end of.

“It’s science. All the ergonomic chairs, massage balls and orthopedic shoes in the world won’t change it. Spending a fortune on an overengineered miracle mattress won’t help.

“While the exact cause of back pain is still unknown, we suspect it’s related to the weight of all the stupid mistakes you’ve made up in your life so far. Otherwise it wouldn’t be so universal.

“So yes, some of you will never stand up again without letting out a little yelp of pain. Others will go down on one knee to pick up a dropped quid for life.

“Soon you’ll be 40. Enjoy not having constant knee pain and getting up for a wee three times a night while you can.”