Six feel-good drinking songs to mask your summertime bingeing

THE sun is out, drinking six bottles of Sol is necessary if you hope to survive, and these pro-alcohol anthems make it wholly acceptable on a Monday night: 

Tubthumping by Chumbawamba, 1997

An ode to resilience, the major-label hit from everyone’s favourite anarcho-punk collective makes getting leathered the duty of the political working class. Listing off drinks like Lemmy’s shopping list, you should down them all in order or risk being told you’ve sold out to The Man.

Cigarettes and Alcohol by Oasis, 1994

To the middle-aged Britpop veteran, nothing tops Liam Gallagher’s ill-informed braggadocio about the joys of coke and booze. Why aspire to better yourself when you can get shitfaced in a beer garden smoking fags?

Come On Eileen by Dexy’s Midnight Runners, 1982

Doesn’t strictly mention booze, but the only way you come up with a plan to seduce a woman by getting all of your mates to chant ‘come on’ at increasing speed is around a crate of beer. Disguises drunkeness because you sound pissed singing it sober.

Escape (The Piña Colada Song) by Rupert Holmes, 1979

A charming, romantic story about a paid of blackout drunks so hammered they answer each other’s personal ads unaware they’ve even written them. That’s what happens when you wash down piña coladas with champagne, you tell your mates’ husband as you lean in for a snog.

Gin and Juice by Snoop Dogg, 1994

The South Central LA vibe makes you feel, even in South Crawley, that you’re living the gangster lifestyle. Little separates Irlam from Inglewood when you’re rollin’ down the high street after 10 pints of Madri. It’s not your fault the pub wouldn’t let you take the bottle of Tanqueray with you.

Red Red Wine by UB40, 1983

A pop-reggae hit about drinking something that, under glaring heat, will give you a headache before you’ve finished the glass? It’s an unwritten law that Red Red Wine validates any embarrassing drunken behaviour, up to and including mooning the Pope.

Sign up now to get
The Daily Mash
free Headlines email – every weekday

No-one standing between Rees-Mogg and the bullies

JACOB Rees-Mogg has suddenly realised that everyone who used to protect him from the bullies has left Parliament. 

The member for North East Somerset entered the Commons at a crisp 7.30am for a breakfast of devilled kedgeree when he looked up and saw that his friends were gone and his enemies were everywhere.

He said: “Ah. Like Publius Quinctilius Varus in the the Teutoburg Forest, I seem to have overplayed my hand.

“While Boris was never actually present he held sway from afar, via the WhatsApps. But in his absence Dorries no longer acts as his eyes and ears, Nigel Adams’s knuckleduster lies idle, Raab is working from home, and I fear I scent retribution.

“I have not always been kind to my cohort of fellow Parliamentarians, complacent that the twin engines of Boris and Brexit would rule for a thousand years, and now groups huddle, mutter and point I see broken spectacles flushed down a ministerial toilet in my future.

“Andrea Jenkyns will not save me – for her, cruelty is an end in itself – and before end of day my inherited Savile Row undergarments will be deeply embedded in my sphincter.

“I texted Boris beseeching his help so I can at least sneak out with my groin unbooted. He has not replied.”