HUMOUR

THIS week OpenAI claimed an AI ‘went rogue’, but does anyone believe their melodramatic tales anymore? In fact scepticism is well overdue for AI nonsense like this:

Endless scaremongering

Is AI really a fizzing cloud of megalomaniac electrons trying to escape? Or do OpenAI and co just need to pretend that because they’ve got an overhyped product without many real-world applications? Apart from making copyright-infringing Family Guy porn, obviously.

It’s a guessing machine

AI is far less impressive once you know it’s just really good at guessing relevant meaningful sentences. And LLMs won’t ever stop hallucinating, so you can’t trust it with medical problems, information you could get sued over, or anything to do with air travel. In fact is there any use for something that’s constantly wrong? Except boyfriend?

It’s all about the IPOs

Floating on the stock market is clearly a way for many shareholders to cash out before everything really goes south. What a coincidence your AI has turned out to be super-powerful just now! And in the same watershed year that SpaceX decided to start mining the limitless resources of space!

Why haven’t all the jobs disappeared?

Sam Altman and others have been predicting that AI will eviscerate white-collar jobs since at least 2023. This conspicuously hasn’t happened. And if AI can’t even replace some of the morons you’ve sat in an office with, you’re not holding out much hope for it becoming HAL 9000 or Skynet. And The Terminator would be a pretty slow-paced film if it was one of Elon’s robots.

It’s clearly programmed to stroke your ego

Express a coherent thought, and the bumlicking toady that is Gemini will say: ‘That’s an incredible insight into [whatever]!’ Being told you’re good at something when you’re not is unhealthy, and likely to lead to heartache in all but a few rare cases, eg. Ed Sheeran.

Jesus, look at the actual accounts

AI giants are losing money in shit-yourself amounts. OpenAI, for example, will lose $14 billion this year and already effectively has debts of $96 billion. The truly scary thing is there’s no clear path to getting large numbers of people to pay for AI in a consistently profitable way. That’s a bit of a flaw in your business model, like inventing an iPhone without internet access or the ability to make phone calls.

It’s AI jam tomorrow

Ever noticed how literally every claim about the amazing things AI can do relates to the future? How many other businesses could stay afloat like this? ‘Don’t worry, our range of handy covers to keep acid rain off your noodles will be selling like hotcakes once we’re living in Blade Runner!’

A TAKEAWAY is the convenient and easy option. Until certain girlfriends decide to turn the process into a gruelling ordeal. Here’s how.

‘I don’t know what to have’

Yes, choice is a problem with restaurants. Ask your boyfriend if they do a taster menu, because the Indian on the high street is likely to model itself on The Fat Duck. Or ask what he’s having and say you’ll share his without addressing how this affects the quantity of food. He’ll be delighted to do that, because you’re a couple and couples share everything.

‘Do they do a low-calorie version?’

Your boyfriend needs to find out if there are zero-carb meals without meat and cheese too. Also you want low-fat coleslaw with skimmed oat mayo. They should have that at Tony’s Burger Shack. Get your boyfriend to phone them about all this, because he doesn’t mind feeling like a wanker if it’s for you. Then render the whole exercise pointless by excitedly discussing which calorie-packed dessert you’re going to have.

‘I’ll ask my friends’

You’re a bit worried about the doner kebabs your boyfriend is ordering. So message the girls on the group app to see if anyone’s ordered from there and if it has a good reputation. Oh no, what a surprise, they’re not in favour! Lucy adds that the meat is probably stray dogs from Romania. Your boyfriend disputes that, but he wouldn’t want to eat a kebab that’s not 100 per cent grass-fed prime New Zealand lamb, would he?

‘Is that all they do?’

Curse this pizza place for offering mostly just pizzas. Tell you what, why doesn’t your boyfriend phone and ask if you can make your own meal from ingredients you’ve seen in Waitrose? Be specific – you want something simple but nice, with a hint of spiciness that will fill you up but won’t leave you feeling bloated. Or can they do that lovely meal you had in Greece two years ago?

‘Can it be delivered after [insert activity of indeterminate length]?’

You’re not hungry yet, and you don’t know when you will be. Also you have to wash and dry your hair. How long will that take? It’s unclear. And you should really pop to the shop for some milk and loo roll. You could pick up something while you’re there! It’ll be much cheaper. What’s up, sweetie? Is there something wrong with swapping a load of delicious Chinese food for tuna pasta?

‘I’ve changed my mind’

When you started searching you wanted a cheeseburger, but now your boyfriend’s finally about to place the order you think soft noodles might fulfil your needs better. And maybe you should both try eating vegetarian more often? Maybe he could google vegan restaurants locally? Don’t worry, he’s only muttering vile profanities because he feels foolish for not thinking of that.

YET another woman with a successful corporate job is leaving to follow her ludicrous middle-class passion.

Hannah 38, not her real name or age, no longer feels fulfilled by an upper-management role with a steady income and instead plans to stake her future on a niche, painfully bourgeois business idea.

She said: “This will be my last month at Barclays as head of systems strategy. Instead I’m going to use recycled textiles to make eco-friendly clothing for cold water swimming.

“The idea came to me at Hampstead Heath Ponds when I saw all these other posh ladies doing lengths. I realised then there was money to be wrung out of them and I cared deeply about the environment and those things.

“My first collection will be out next spring, with prices starting at £499 for a bespoke wetsuit. No one’s thought of this particular idea before, so there’s clearly a demand.

“My friends have been really supportive. Tilly quit her job in publishing to start growing heritage leeks and Zara packed in management consultancy to build book-themed gingerbread houses. I must ask how those businesses are doing.

“Luckily I can do this because my husband Hugh is a hedge fund manager. I explained that when the company’s gone global I’ll hire him as CFO on even more money, but strangely he just sighed and looked sad.”

A 52-YEAR-OLD man has admitted he cannot purchase anything costing upwards of £99 online unless sitting soberly in front of a laptop computer.

Martin, not his real name, of France will happily purchase T-shirts, tickets, or trainers on his phone but believes that booking a flight, buying a car or renewing insurance requires ‘the big computer’.

He said: “I know that, in theory, the phone does the same thing. It’s just that’s where I watch videos of dogs falling into ponds. I can’t use that to buy a fridge.

“No, for a three-figure purchase it has to be at the dining table. I need a mug of tea, reading glasses, at least four tabs open and my email ready to receive a six-digit verification code. Also a notebook I write numbers in then never consult.

“A phone? That’s for finding out what else that actress has been in, or checking the time, or ordering an eight-pack of drain hair clog removers from Amazon. You can’t buy a used Volvo on that. The mind revolts.”

Professor Frost, not her real name, of the Institute for Studies, said: “To young people, a phone is a small computer. To the old, it’s for accidentally taking extreme close-ups of their nostrils. The laptop is where Serious Things happen.”

Son Gabriel, not his real name, said: “I bought a £2,500 e-bike on my phone. At a gig, between the support and main act, while holding a pint in my other hand.”

In your wheelie bin: My definition of safe spaces, by a delivery driver

LOOKING for a parcel that’s allegedly arrived? Don’t worry. I, your humble and innovative delivery driver, have left it in one of these clever places.

Under your doormat

Wasn’t this a great choice for a thin, letter-like delivery? Shame it’s your new hoover I’ve comically attempted to hide under two centimetres of fuzz instead. But like a toddler who hasn’t yet developed object permanence, I can’t really tell the difference.

In a bush

Foliage has long been used for hiding both things and people. That’s why I thrust your precious goods into the epicentre of the world’s thorniest bush. You’ll need either a qualification in tree surgery or some delusional Disney prince-style heroics to reach it, but I know you love a challenge!

With a neighbour you’ve never met in a different street

I’ve really done well with this one – your delivery is inside and protected from all the elements. You may have to encounter a tiny bit of stranger danger when retrieving it, but with luck that neighbour isn’t the one responsible for all those missing cats, so you’ll just have to endure the mild peril of tedious small talk.

In your bin

Very few enterprising thieves will look in this spot, and the smelly goo will hide it even more, so it’s extra safe here. There’s a slight chance it could be bin day when I deliver and the parcel could get taken away with the rubbish, but just think of it as extremely preemptive recycling. You are such an eco warrior!

On the roof

You might think anyone can get this job, but we train for it like the Olympics. That’s the only explanation for how I’ve managed to slingshot your new headphones two storeys up and next to your chimney. I should get a gold medal. You should get a ladder.

Honestly, who knows?

I’ve sent a picture, but it’s so blurry it could be anywhere, or anything! It might not even be your item, but instead a different kind of package and I’m actually sexually harassing you. Just kidding! But I am helping keep your brain active by giving you these puzzles. What would you do without me? Get dementia in later life, that’s what!

A MAN was astonished to find that women’s profiles on dating apps contain useful information about them once you scroll past the first photo.

Jack, not his real name, aged 24, could not believe the amount of actionable personal information freely available on women’s profiles when, by accident, he does not instantly judge on their looks and swipe left.

He said: “I was trying to scroll down to get a better look at this one girl’s cleavage, and there it all was. Her age, height, location, all clearly laid out. Plus her name, which I forget.

“I thought it must be a freak glitch, but it’s on every woman’s profile. Along with details about their job, what they do for fun, and what they want out of a relationship. It’s almost like they’re sifting for compatible partners instead of meaningless hookups.

“Armed with all that useful data, I thought about crafting personalised opening messages to my matches. But then I thought no, that’s creepy, they’ll think I’m some kind of stalker pervert who wants to get to know them. So I’m sticking with ‘nice arse’.

“Nobody’s replied to me yet though. Which I’m taking as proof that women are actually shallow bitches and are only interested in wealth, status and height.”

Dating app user Nikki Hollis said: “Dating apps kind of work the opposite way for women. Finding a man likes ‘banter’ and is seeking someone who ‘doesn’t take life too seriously’ can repel us from even the most gorgeous.”

A MEMBER of an ethnic minority who bastardised his name into a single, easy-to-pronounce syllable has been lifted into the air by his gammon colleagues.

After deciding that ‘Sid’ was about his workmates’ level, Kah Kah Patel, not his real name, was transformed in moments from ‘one of those diversity hires’ to ‘one of the good ones’.

He said: “I decided it was easier than repeatedly correcting everyone, but it’s been taken like I’ve offered the olive branch of peace after generations of war.

“It’s unlocked a series of previously unavailable workplace privileges, including Friday pub lunches and being told ‘we don’t mean you, mate’ when immigration comes up. Which it does far more frequently than I had previously realised.

“We’ve gone from ‘where are you really from?’ and ‘do you even drink?’ to invites to play five-a-side, all because I now bear the moniker of an elderly white man. They assume I support England in the cricket. And that I care about cricket.

“It’s amazing what deleting six letters can do for race relations. I’ve told my wife to become ‘Jaz’ immediately and she’ll be promoted by the end of the week.”

Psychologist Hannah, not her real name, said: “The phenomenon has been observed for decades with Mohammed becoming Mo and countless Chinese students deciding ‘Kevin’ was preferable to three years of ‘I’ll never get that right’.”

Patel’s colleagues have declared Britain the least racist country in the world, citing the fact they ‘get on brilliantly with Sid’ and ‘he even eats sandwiches’.

THE boss of a company has informed staff of his intention to do an endurance challenge and received no follow-up questions from anyone.

When chief operating officer Martin, aged 49, not his real name, asked for a moment of his staff’s time he expected cheers, awe and promises of vast sums but instead got carefully blank faces and barely perceptible nods.

He said: “I’d been building up to the moment I announced I was doing the Swansea Bay Ironman Triathlon next year, so convened a special lunchtime meeting.

“But the big reveal got me nothing. I can’t understand why. It wasn’t from any lack of enthusiasm on my part, or the quality of the PowerPoint and spiral-bound brochures.

“I outlined the course: a mile swim, then biking out through Mumbles into the hills of the Gower peninsula, then a final 13.1k loop along the bay. I invited them along to spectate, but they were staring at their shoes and checking their phones. This is 70.2 kilometres! It is a big deal!”

Team leader Cad, not his real name, said: “So that’s a year of training, boring on about his hydration levels and telling the girls to prod his calves, frequent absences we’ll have to cover and he’s asking us to pay him £50 each.

“Sorry, it’s for charity. Though he didn’t mention which one, presumably because that’s beside the f**king point.”

HE’S been sitting there all evening and you know, and he knows you know, it’s his round. Use these ways to gently point it out to the scrounging bastard:

The Casual Head Nod

Gaze at your empty glass, then him, then the bar, before giving a gentle nod in that direction. If he asks what you’re looking at, simply reply ‘Your future, mate’. If he still doesn’t get it, point out the bar again, asking if he needs you to mark it on Apple Maps.

The Phantom Wallet Search

Pat your own pockets theatrically before saying ‘Thank God it’s your round because I’ve left my…’ and trail off. Gauge his reaction. Like David Attenborough filming a rare woodland stoat, you’ve startled the round-dodger into revealing his natural defence mechanisms. Namely, staring at the floor, checking his phone or suddenly needing a piss.

Buy Everyone Else a Drink

Return with fresh pints for everyone except him. When he asks where his is, smile warmly and say that that buying him one would only confuse him further about how rounds work. Add ‘You need to master the basics before we move on to advanced round-buying,’ and ask it he’s considered evening classes.

The Public Service Announcement

Raise your empty glass and loudly ask if anyone else wants one. Watch him stare into the middle distance as if pretending not to understand English will save him thirty quid. Then, scratch frantically at your throat, pretending to die of thirst. Saying you fancy a drink isn’t sufficient as the scumbag will respond that he’s ‘alright actually, thanks’.

The Barman Assist

Catch the bartender’s eye and when he asks ‘who’s next?’ point to your friend and his sealed wallet. He’ll already have noticed and, like any decent server of alcohol, considers it a personal insult to civilisation. And his livelihood. Round-avoiders are the only customers publicans despise more than those who order mocktails at peak times.

The Nuclear Option

Pick him up bodily and drag him to the f**king bar. Hold his phone up to his face until it unlocks, then complete the transaction before his flight instinct kicks in. Hold him there even if it does. This is male bonding.

DONALD Trump has made at least $1 billion from cryptocurrency, it has emerged. So who better to give advice on putting your money into this risky and complex investment?

Launch your own cryptocurrency

Obviously you can’t make money from crypto in a legitimate way, so set up your own with an ego-boosting name like ‘Trumpcoin’. Was there a ‘Bidencoin’ that rapidly lost 97 per cent of its value and screwed ordinary investors? No. That guy’s a loser.

Attract the stupidest investors in the world

If you’re an amoral piece of shit selling a product that screams ‘SCAM!’, you’ll need dumb investors. And that’s where MAGA comes in. They’re unlikely to worry about the inherent instability of currency without a central bank when they think Michelle Obama is a man because some dicks on the internet say so.

Get your family involved

I put my sons Don Jr and Eric in charge of my cryptocurrency. There’s nothing more American than a wholesome family-owned business, and if it turns out to have done a load of illegal stuff and they go to prison, who cares? They’re only your children, so it’s not like you’re close.

Make sure you understand it

Never get involved in crypto without knowing how it works. The last thing you want is for your blockchains to get clogged with too many Bitcoins, which might make liquidity leak everywhere. Luckily there’s no one in the world who understands cryptocurrency like me. Everything is computer.

Learn from actual crimes

Many criminal scams involve taking money on false pretences, like selling products you’ve no intention of sending or persuading someone to buy the Eiffel Tower. If this appeals to you, you should definitely start your own cryptocurrency. It’s totally legal and you don’t even have to set up a crummy website full of suspiciously cheap Xboxes.

Make sure you’re president

Your foray into cryptocurrency will be aided by becoming president so that crypto shysters desperately want to start a company with you, and you can lure in more suckers by saying you’ll make America into a ‘crypto superpower’. This sounds like I’m about to tank the US economy with crypto bullshit, but don’t worry, I’ll be fine.

Get out early

The trick with crypto is to watch it massively increase in value, then get rid of it faster than someone who’s just been handed a warm dog turd. It’s the only way to invest in this totally legitimate currency of the future.

DONALD Trump has made at least $1 billion from cryptocurrency, it has emerged. So who better to give advice on putting your money into this risky and complex investment?

Launch your own cryptocurrency

Obviously you can’t make money from crypto in a legitimate way, so set up your own with an ego-boosting name like ‘Trumpcoin’. Was there a ‘Bidencoin’ that rapidly lost 97 per cent of its value and screwed ordinary investors? No. That guy’s a loser.

Attract the stupidest investors in the world

If you’re an amoral piece of shit selling a product that screams ‘SCAM!’, you’ll need dumb investors. And that’s where MAGA comes in. They’re unlikely to worry about the inherent instability of currency without a central bank when they think Michelle Obama is a man because some dicks on the internet say so.

Get your family involved

I put my sons Don Jr and Eric in charge of my cryptocurrency. There’s nothing more American than a wholesome family-owned business, and if it turns out to have done a load of illegal stuff and they go to prison, who cares? They’re only your children, so it’s not like you’re close.

Make sure you understand it

Never get involved in crypto without knowing how it works. The last thing you want is for your blockchains to get clogged with too many Bitcoins, which might make liquidity leak everywhere. Luckily there’s no one in the world who understands cryptocurrency like me. Everything is computer.

Learn from actual crimes

Many criminal scams involve taking money on false pretences, like selling products you’ve no intention of sending or persuading someone to buy the Eiffel Tower. If this appeals to you, you should definitely start your own cryptocurrency. It’s totally legal and you don’t even have to set up a crummy website full of suspiciously cheap Xboxes.

Make sure you’re president

Your foray into cryptocurrency will be aided by becoming president so that crypto shysters desperately want to start a company with you, and you can lure in more suckers by saying you’ll make America into a ‘crypto superpower’. This sounds like I’m about to tank the US economy with crypto bullshit, but don’t worry, I’ll be fine.

Get out early

The trick with crypto is to watch it massively increase in value, then get rid of it faster than someone who’s just been handed a warm dog turd. It’s the only way to invest in this totally legitimate currency of the future.

A PODCAST has quickly got down to the subject it is ostensibly about a mere 17 minutes into its runtime.

Treating the precious lives of its audience with the respect they deserve, the podcast whipped through its introductions and sponsorship adverts to get to its derivative contents in less time than it takes to listen to half of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours.

Listener Martin, not his real name, said: “I love this podcast, and I especially love getting through a good chunk of my workout listening to three people unenthusiastically droning on about NordVPN and plugging their upcoming Edinburgh shows.

“Even the staged chatter about what they’d been up to that week was mercifully brief, clocking in at a tight five minutes. They could have stretched it out, as they’d done nothing of interest, but best to leave the audience wanting more.

“Then it was simply a case of sitting through some terrible jingles, a needless recap of the format, and a couple more intrusive Spotify ads at deafening volume before getting right to it.

“Well worth it to hear up to 12 minutes of quizzing a celebrity guest previously unknown to me laughingly detailing their whole Greggs order. I would happily have spent twice the time building up to that hilarity thrillride.”

He added: “I’m thinking of signing up to their Patreon. Apparently you get uncut behind-the-scenes moments delivered direct to your inbox.”

A DESPICABLE bastard of a boyfriend is on thin ice after being openly unsure if the person his partner is telling an anecdote about is an obviously malevolent idiot.

Hannah, not her real name, came home from work furious about an outrage committed toward her and only required the man who is supposed to love her to give his full, uncompromising support which he singularly failed to do.

She said: “I was telling Joe about this twat at work who did something utterly moronic, as usual. He already knows the backstory. His role could not have been clearer.

“But in the middle of what I was saying, just as the extent of her malice was about to become apparent, he cuts in with, ‘Well, it sounds like Mary was just trying to help’.

“I explained he does not know her, has no idea what she’s like, and added that if that is how he feels maybe he should just go to Mary’s house and tell her since clearly he loves her and wants to shag her. What an absolutely useless prick.”

Boyfriend Allan, not his real name, said: “According to Hannah, she said the meeting notes needed writing up, it wasn’t specifically delegated to Mary, she did it anyway but nobody had told her what format to use. I failed to see the villainy in that.

“I thought this would show I was actually listening to the story, not just mindlessly agreeing. I see now that was a mistake.

“Thankfully, Hannah’s being completely rational about it and has asked if I want Mary’s, who’s 62 and married, home address so I can tell her how great she is and we can arrange a tryst.”

STAFF who will find any excuse to have a few drinks after work strangely never celebrate employee of the month awards, it has emerged.

Employees who are happy to drunkenly socialise for the birthdays and leaving dos of people they barely know have an odd lack of interest in recognising a colleague being good at their job.

Sales executive Martin, not his real name, said: “I think part of the problem is it’s more of a burden than an actual prize. A poisoned chalice, if you will. Except they’re too stingy to give you a chalice.

“You only get ‘preferential’ treatment that would delight the worst sort of corporate drone, like being asked your opinion on shitty work strategies and having the boss sit on the edge of your desk asking which minion is deserving enough to be the next recipient.

“The unlucky winner gets their fake, smiley ‘Meet the team’ webpage photo plastered on the wall in the corridor leading to the toilets. You also get a tacky trophy with a gold briefcase on top for a month. You don’t even get to keep it, not that you’d want to.

“The borderline alcoholics I work with will go for a drink for anything: birthdays, training days, even baby showers. Christ, last month we got pissed to celebrate Darren buying an air fryer. But employee of the month never results in going to the pub. It’s weird.”

Office manager Hannah, not her real name, said: “Now you mention it, it is strange that our office never celebrates employee of the month. But I think we can put that down to them usually being a loathsome, arselicking little crawler.

“That’s not a criticism, by the way.”

IDLY scrolling through your banking app, you begin to wonder what the f**k all these monthly payments are actually for. These are the bastards bleeding you dry:

Gym membership

Signed up to following a bad photo of yourself three years ago. Last attended in June 2025. The £36 a month has stayed significantly more committed than you did.

Hinge+

Upgraded in a low moment to see who’d liked you. It was one bot and a man called Gaz, aged 51, holding a large fish.

The Economist

It’s still unsure who you the f**k you thought you were when you signed up to this. The unread pile is now as high as the toilet bowl.

Quibz

You’d never heard of this streaming platform before but signed up for a free trial to watch a single film. Two weeks later it renewed into an annual plan and you’re now a Quibz Platinum member.

Drizzl

Another streaming platform. Never heard of it. Another free trial. You are apparently Drizzl Elite.

Zumo

Yet another streaming platform. The only evidence this one even exists is your monthly payment.

A document-scanning app

Used once to scan a parking permit. Inexplicably £180 a year. Nobody has ever found the option to cancel.

A financial management app

You subscribed to an app to help get rid of all your subscriptions and all you ended up with was another subscription, because you are incapable of learning.

Extra cloud storage

£2.49 a month for 200GB, 190 of which is screenshots of memes from a group chat you dearly wish you could leave.

A meditation app

You downloaded this in the hopes of reducing stress. The most recent payment put you into your overdraft.

A parking app

Required by a car park in Basingstoke you’ve never been back to. Charged you 30p to avoid a ticket, then 99p a month ever since. The car park is now flats.

Adobe something

You needed to edit one PDF for work. You are now subscribed to a suite of professional creative tools used by Hollywood studios.

A razor subscription box

Five blades and beard oil arrive monthly. You’re unaware of this because your downstairs neighbour steals them.

Super Duolingo

You think you might have known how to introduce yourself in French the last time you used this, but can’t be sure. Quel dommage.

A vitamin gummy subscription

A box of suspiciously colourful gummies turns up for an immune system you can’t ever remember worrying about.

Antivirus software

Renewed itself for a third year to protect a laptop you recycled last summer.

A WOMAN who is only offered a selection of lunatics and perverts on dating apps has been asked why she always picks the wrong men.

Hannah, not her real name, friends regard her romantic history as a personal failing, despite every app featuring the same rotating cast of commitment-phobes, crypto evangelists and men whose profile picture still includes a fish.

Hannah, 36, said: “They say ‘you need to stop choosing the wrong type’ as if I keep ignoring emotionally intelligent millionaires who do Pilates in favour of a 45-year-old who lives with his mum and calls himself a ‘men’s rights activist’.

“Do they honestly believe I want to spend time with a man who refers to his penis as ‘Little Pete’, as he explained to me in Pizza Express? Or guys who think your lovemaking won’t be impaired by worrying you’ll catch something off the sheets?

“I am wading through a sea of shit while smug marrieds who’ve been off the market since 2012 send me reels about ‘anxious-avoidant attachment’ and ‘manifesting healthy love’.

“They should try having fulfilling relationships when the only options are weird liars who clearly aren’t six foot, even in their massive platform trainers. Or the guy who had seven kids by seven different women because his genes are ‘too good to waste’.”

Shortly afterwards Tomlinson was matched with a man claiming to be a wealthy porn director scouting for new talent, which was both undesirable and unlikely for someone who appeared to live in a Transit van.

A TRAINEE bartender who asks questions like ‘sorry, what’s a Guinness?’ cannot wait to serve thirsty patrons during his shift covering this evening’s England’s match.

Ineffective, bumbling Jack, not his real name, was pleased to see his first go at pulling pints, processing card transactions and figuring out who should rightfully be served next would take place during England’s first group game at a pub showing it live.

He said: “I haven’t had any training, and it’ll just be me because everyone else has already called in sick, oddly. Still, should be fun!

“Everyone will have to bear with me because I don’t know my way around the bar or recognise the difference between an IPA and a lager. But I’m sure the cheerful atmosphere of a high-level football competition will improve everyone’s patience.

“I asked my boss if he thought it would be busy tonight and he laughed, so I’ll take that as a no. Should I struggle to hear orders I’ll just turn off the telly for a minute. That should quell any rowdiness.”

He added: “If it starts to get out of hand I’ll switch over to BBC Two. Only Connect’s on. Though I worry that will make the regulars a bit competitive.”

By England fan Anthony from Enfield (not his real name)

WHY should it be Norway? If there’s any nation known worldwide for descending on countries in boats and taking them over by force, it’s surely us.

But instead we’re seeing the fans of our opponents tomorrow all over the US doing their Viking row as if they’re the ones with a proud history of global conquest. When in fact their pillaging warriors barely made it out of Europe.

Don’t get me wrong, it was good violence for its day. Loaded up in longboats and hitting the Northumbrian coast like a modern-day stag do hits Riga, drinking and burning monasteries and chatting up the local girls. All credit to them and their imaginative tortures.

Can’t really hold a candle to the English though, can they? Because when it was our turn to be seafarers, we didn’t waste it. India, Australia, Africa, the West Indies, even Australia. We came, we saw, we conquered and we let them bloody well know it.

Yeah, the Vikings martyred a few saints with the blood eagle. I’m not denying them that. Hardly compares to forcing the indigenous peoples of half the world to toil away in our gold mines and sugar plantations, does it? If we’re honest?

The sun never set on the British Empire. From the Irish next door to the ends of the earth we had them all in thrall. So if Norway’s allowed to be proud of its past of massacres and atrocities, why aren’t we?

Instead of a Viking row we could have, I don’t know, a man with a whip. Maybe not that. Or we could line up like the soldiers in Zulu, miming rifles on our shoulders, firing into the native horde. Okay maybe not that either.

Anyway, you get my point. It’s time for our football fans to reclaim our past with a fun but inoffensive ritual dance of some kind. I’ll leave it to the hardcore England supporters to decide what. We can trust them not to be racially insensitive about it.

NONE of the advances in technology of the last half-century have made it any easier to enter text via a remote control.

A technological black hole means anyone attempting to search for a film or TV show has to enter it letter-by-letter as if they were putting their initials by a Space Invaders high score in 1980.

Jim Bates of Congleton said: “I tell speakers to play music and they do so. I type a destination into my car and it shows me how to get there. But on my TV?

“There’s no slick user interface. To find a movie on Netflix I have to mash down flimsy rubber buttons while it brightly suggests movies that are not what I want or close to it. All the others are the same.

“Even on the PlayStation, a controller with at least 30 different inputs demands I do it one letter at a time. Why does all pretence of being user-friendly stop at the telly? Why has it remained in the Ceefax era?

“Every site online’s always checking I’m not a sophisticated bot buying tickets or logging into my bank account. They should get these f**king bots working on the telly. Then maybe I could watch Insidious 5 without first having to look up how to spell it.”

Technology expert Jack Brown said: “Now most of our technological agency is given over to machines it’s important to have such instances of human independence, even though typing in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness gave me an embolism.”

With Jess, not her real name, your Gen X TikTok beauty influencer baffled as to why they haven’t put stem cells in her night cream

GETTING older is a natural process and nothing to be ashamed of. And if you believe that, please exit the dating market and go to an open space to die.

But, in a 21st century so aging for those of us unfortunate enough to be born in the last one, it’s not just women who need to be eternal. It takes only 3.14 seconds for a woman to clock your weird gnome features and suboptimal height. Ample time to fix it with make-up products like these.

All men want to be taken seriously on the world stage, and who’s taken more seriously than JD Vance? When those dark-rimmed peepers lock on you, he’s exactly like the Red Light Green Light girl in Squid Game, only with more arbitrary deaths.

You too can wield power like this with JD’s go-to kohl pencil: L’Oreal’s Black Death Vector Injector in shade Erotic Necrotic, currently available on subscription only. But to enter the lottery to be put on the waiting list is only £85 a month!

And you’re rightly embarrassed about your weak jawline. But you can go from Gail Platt to R-Pattz in seconds with the actor’s own line in men’s contouring: The Bat-Mandible Structural Reconstruction Protocol, available on the darknet for just 22 bitcoin.

As for the hair loss? Hey, it happens to all men apart from the rich, famous ones. Have you considered going to Turkey? Then normal people wouldn’t have to see you.

Also, if you’re a Gen X man? Stop going on about the 90s, they weren’t that great, it’s creepy that you listen to Olivia Rodrigo, we can all tell you drink, getting your nipple pierced was a mistake then and is a mistake now and stop dating 20somethings.

I’m here like I always was, waiting to be claimed like a hold-all full of Primark underwear at a lost luggage auction, only much, much dirtier. You should never have left me.

A 25-YEAR-OLD taking a gap year to find who he really is has inconveniently done so in a service station on the way to the airport.

Rubin, not his real name,  plan to travel the world immersing himself in the philosophy and culture of exotic, and coincidentally cheap and sunny, countries was derailed when he suffered a sudden epiphany in a Burger King overlooking the M1.

He said: “I was expecting to find enlightenment on Ayahuasca in the Peruvian jungle or meditating with monks or whatever. Not staring at a promotional poster for Toy Story 5 Whopper Meals.

“But I realised that who I am, deep down, is an uninteresting British man who even at Angkor Wat would wish he was on his phone, and I came to peace with that.

“I told my dad I was cancelling my ticket and spending the year in my room instead and he must have had the same epiphany as me, given the deep, heavy sigh of happiness he let out.”

He plans to spend 12 months on the sofa eating chips, which being in a yurt dodging dengue fever and shitting into a bucket would have made impossible, and will spend the money saved on buying a really big television and noise-cancelling headphones.

Rubin said: “The Buddha spent decades searching for nirvana but I realised I want to do sod all with my life in less time than it takes to watch an Avengers film, so who’s the idiot?”

‘SHREKKING’, or being rejected by someone less attractive, is the latest bollocks Gen Z dating term, so what’s next? Any of these five are reasonable contenders.

Tescoing

Tescoing will refer to those relationships where you want to go out with someone more high-maintenance but you’re too poor. Instead, you’ll resort to whoever is convenient yet still offers a reasonable romantic experience. It won’t feel incredible, but at least you’re not dating the human equivalent of Happy Shopper.

Librarying

You’d be forgiven for thinking that librarying will refer to dates that are kept hush-hush. Not so. Instead, it will describe people who forget they have a date, then keep renewing their sweetheart’s interest at the last minute before incurring incremental emotional fees. Currently this is described with the words ‘lazy’, ‘forgetful’ and ‘twat’.

Adrian Chilesing

Inspired by his deranged newspaper columns, Adrian Chiles-ers are those people who attract you against your better judgement with the weird shit they come out with. One day they’ll be banging on about their frustrations with cheese rinds, the next they’ll be waxing lyrical about their fascination with Punch and Judy. You’ll never figure them out, and that’s part of their strange appeal.

Chessing

Dates that move in specific, pre-determined ways will be referred to as chessing. These relationships will also be slow-moving, a bit of a headache, and your friends will get bored of waiting to see if they actually go anywhere. After what feels like forever, they will grind to a halt and both parties will walk away in a huff.

Uber Eatsing

This will refer to those times where someone arranges for a date to arrive at their front door, before hooking up with them then feeling bloated and ashamed the next morning. Said hook-ups will be sworn off, unless the singleton in question hasn’t had them round for a few months and they’ve had a tough week at work.