Why the Daily Mail offends my hippy socialist soul, by billionaire Richard Branson

HAVE I banned the Daily Mail from Virgin Rail to distract people from the fact that I’m earning shitloads from the NHS? Of course not, man.

Am I refusing to sell it so that I retain my cuddly, good guy image whilst charging you all your entire life savings to travel on my perpetually late trains? No way, dude.

I might have enough money to play at building space ships and invite Barack Obama over for a spot of scuba diving, but I’m basically just the same as you. Just an ordinary guy living an ordinary life on my private Caribbean island, writing this while wearing a billowy white shirt and listening to Moon Safari by Air.

Because I’m such a right on guy with a firm moral stance, I’ve decided that the Daily Mail’s views are not compatible with my own, apart from the when it comes to shafting the public sector. Suing the UK’s tax-funded health care service might not seem like the compassionate thing to do, but it’s actually a really cool way of sticking it to the man. Man.

Banning a frothing bile-infused rag like this guarantees column inches and but more importantly it shows that I care. I’m basically Jeremy Corbyn, but with a better bike and more dynamic facial hair.

Peace and love,


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French Mountain covered in arseholes

A FRENCH mountain is covered in snow and smug, excitable arseholes, it has emerged. 

Awful humans from across Europe have gathered on the mountain to slide down it, creating what looks like a giant prick volcano.

French mountain Hélène Archer said: “I’m up to my summit in total shits.

“Wankers who think they’re gnarly because they’ve spent two hundred quid on a pair of goggles and strapped themselves to an ironing board. 

“Red-cheeked, status-obsessed skiing dicks, quaffing champagne and boasting about their crypto investments.

“It’s like I’ve started sweating cretins. At least I get some respite in the night when they all squeeze into the clubs, get on the gak and jump to around to some awful will.i.am track.”

Archer added: “It never ends. A couple of months into spring and I’m crawling with angry dads on mountain bikes. I wish I was a hill or a cloud.”