Celebrities of today and the assisted living aids they'll sell in the future

EVERY Sunday supplement features celebrities from the 1970s advertising old person products like stairlifts and mobility scooters. But who will take their place in years to come?

Katie Price – stairlifts

Looking after all those kids by Z-list celebs and mixed martial arts morons isn’t cheap, and Katie can’t afford to turn work down after the panto appearances dried up back in 2038. She does at least use a stairlift – 200 or so pointless breast enlargements really take their toll on your back.

Molly-Mae Hague – cruise trips

‘We all have the same 24 hours in a day,’ witters influencer Molly-Mae, ‘so why not spend them on a five-star cruise?’ Probably because it’s being trapped at sea with incontinent Brexiter pensioners and an almost-dead Bobby Davro. Instagram followers get photos of the 87-year-old in various states of undress gazing vacantly off-screen, presumably deciding whether to look at the sea from the bow today or to mix things up by looking at it from the stern for a change.

Ed Sheeran – hearing aids

Former Newsround presenter John Craven is now promoting hearing aids. But in 30 years’ time, the baton will have passed to Ed Sheeran, who, like so many musicians, will be partially deaf from gigs and use of studio headphones. Tragically, he also has extensive brain damage due to listening to Galway Girl more times than any other human being.

Boris Johnson – Viagra

The year is 2053 and 88-year-old Johnson is about to welcome his 24th child into the chaotic hellscape that Britain has become since Brexit. To afford his cripplingly large child support payments, Boris now does a series of terrible adverts with the slogan: ‘I f**ked the entire country. Now you can too’ while an ageing actress playing his wife pretends to look forward to having sex with him.

Donald Trump – anything that can be Trump-branded

Following his release from prison, Donald flogs anything that will make a quick buck from his octogenarian fan base, who still haven’t realised he’s taking them for a ride. His line of unconvincing wigs proves popular, and highly profitable due to being made in China from scraps of nylon and hay. His incontinence aids also do quite well, along with a large-handled ‘pussy grabber’ for elderly sex pests with arthritis.

Clarkson, May and Hammond – mobility scooters

The former Top Gear funsters had their driving licences revoked in 2046 due to failing eyesight. They now resort to promoting mobility scooters, putting them through their paces with a series of increasingly tedious stunts like throwing them off cliffs and racing them against tanks. Their adoring fan base – now in their 90s – still lap up their tiresome shtick.

Liz Hurley – electric blankets

Poor Liz spent so much time in her late 50s taking bikini photos for her social media pages that she now suffers terribly from chilblains. So she eagerly gives her seal of approval to a range of electric blankets that ease her symptoms, promoting them with more photos of herself, now aged 93, in bikinis.

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I have been victimised by my two worst enemies: Harriet Harman and facts

HARRIET Harman and objective truth have had it in for me for years, and now they have wickedly conspired to accuse me of things I definitely have done.

One is the unattractive chair of the privileges committee who hates my very existence. The other is a set of indisputable facts about reality which have been a hindrance to me since birth. And now their kangaroo court has delivered its laughable verdict on me, a helpless innocent.

It should come as no surprise. ‘Harriet Harperson’ has long been jealous of my wit, universal popularity and athletic physique. And my playful habit of ignoring facts is a nuisance to egghead boffins who get hung up on that sort of thing.

Like two envious, runtish oppidans plotting against their Eton College superiors, they have dashed off a worthless, peer-reviewed report after a cursory one-year investigation, the findings of which are patently tripe, bollocks and flim-flam.

Could I, the brave Ulysses who triumphantly guided this fearful nation through the rocks of Brexit and Covid, really intentionally lie to parliament? According to the facts of my own deranged reality, I could never do such a thing, therefore I didn’t.

Instead, you will have to believe my own account: I was acting in the best interests of the nation, outsmarting the coronavirus with my Machiavellian genius by doing what it least expected: getting shitfaced in close proximity to other people.

And that, not the feverish imaginings of Harpie Harman or boring old facts, is the only explanation that makes any sense.