Five warning signs you aren't going to the pub this evening

LOOKING forward to a pint after work? Steady on. If you detect any of these warning signs, the odds are not in your favour: 

Your friends aren’t around

A quick message of ‘pint?’ on the group chat usually gets a flurry of responses like ‘f**k yes’ and ‘where/when?’ If this isn’t the case, panic. Start working your way down your friends in order of preference, even offering to buy the first round if you’re desperate. You’re not above going on your own but people judge.

You have plans

You want nothing more than a couple of hours in a quiet pub sinking pints, but you’re out with your girlfriend this evening for an anniversary meal before heading home for a celebratory shag. Christ, your life is shit. Why can’t you be a loner with nothing better to do than prop up the bar?

Work’s overrunning

You’ve been slammed at the office today, meaning you’re going to have to stay late to catch up. Admittedly you’re behind because you’ve spent hours daydreaming about IPAs and dry-roasted nuts instead of working, but come on. Once it gets to 5pm you’re working on pub time.

You don’t have any money

Sadly pubs are opposed to dishing out drinks for free, even to regulars. They insist you purchase them with the one thing you don’t have: money. Offering them your watch doesn’t work even though it’s a 1982 Casio given to you by your father and worth £15 easily. It’s not the same drinking Asda Smart Price Bitter, even if it is £1 for four cans.

You’ve already been for eight days on the trot

You’ve been to the pub every evening for more than a week, which is why you’re skint, none of your friends are interested and your professional life is suffering. Your liver and your bank account will thank you for a day off. Numb your agitated brain with the next best thing: telly.

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Dog wishes owner's leg would reciprocate more when they hump

A PET dog just wishes he could believe that his owner’s leg is as into their regular lovemaking as he is.

Dachshund Bertie, aged four, admitted that he sometimes feels as if his erotic obsession with the right shin of owner Norman is not fully requited, and often they are just going through the motions.

He continued: “Until until recently I thought we had a satisfactory, normal sex life. I furiously pound away, scrabbling for purchase, while Norman swats at me and calls me a ‘little bugger’.

“But sometimes it feels like I’m the only one putting the work in. I get no feedback at all on any sexual level. I’m throwing my whole being into this, body and soul, and it’s there like a piece of wood.

“It’s always available to me, as long as I don’t mind being kicked and told to f**k off which I don’t, but where’s the passion? Where’s the meeting of hearts?

“Perhaps it’s because we can never get a moment to ourselves away from Norman? Maybe I should book us a spa weekend. Maybe then we’d have chance to really find each other.”

Owner Norman Steele said: “That hound is an absolute sex pest. I’ve booked him to get his bollocks off.”