Kids physically fit but talking in working-class accents

CHILDREN taking daily PE lessons with Joe Wicks are physically healthy but at least 30 per cent more common, parents have reported. 

Children from middle-class households are becoming expert at high-impact workouts but no longer able to enunciate correctly or properly pronounce ‘quinoa’.

Mother of two Carolyn Ryan said, “At first I was thrilled that Noah was doing PE online because it sounded spartan and educational. I didn’t notice he was dropping his Ts and saying ‘haitch’ instead of ‘aitch.’

“But then when he was showing me his charming lateral lunges, he shouted, ‘Ere we go! Fank you everybody!’ and the penny dropped when he held his finger to an imaginary earpiece then yelled, ‘Shaut aut to Gemma in Solly-ull! We love ya!’

“I can’t have my son talking like a Cockney wideboy forced to retire to Southend 20 years ago after upsetting a big cheese by turning Queen’s on an insurance blag. I thought this ‘Body Coach’ would have to go.

“But actually I found myself watching it a bit first. He’s got a remarkably nice, toned living room. And very firm, sculpted respect for the NHS.

“So now Noah and I watch it together, and his father wears headphones and repeats what Joe says in Benedict Cumberbatch’s voice. Best of both worlds.”

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

Hug and handshake ban 'no problem whatsoever,' say Sunderland men

THE men of Sunderland have assured the UK of their absolute compliance when it comes to social distancing.

In common with the masculine population of the north-east as a whole, Sunderland’s males stressed that they were more than prepared to make the sacrifice of making do with a distant, curt nod and ‘All right?’

Roy Hobbs, a Sunderland man born and bred for 59 years, said: “I think I speak for all my townsmen when I say that we’re well capable of keeping a couple of yards, or metres if you insist, apart.

“No hugging. No handshaking. We won’t even need air kisses. We’re that resilient.

“The only risk of physical contact with another man is if I catch him looking at me, my wife or my dog in a funny way, in which case I’d need to deck the bastard.

“But he’d be on the floor in five seconds flat and the actual contact of fist on jaw would be tiny. It’s unlikely the virus would be able to spread from twatter to twatted in that time.

“Fortunately, it’s April and we’re all shirtless because it’s summer, so even if I did get some on my knuckles it couldn’t survive in tropical temperatures of a balmy nine degrees.”