'My grandad wasn't gassed at Ypres so women could slag about': a first date with Joey Barton

ARE you lucky enough to have a date with former Man-City-before-they-were-good player Joey Barton? These conversational pearls will slip from his lips: 

‘Did you sleep your way to the top?’

This is bound to come up if talking about your job. Joey knows full well female football commentators only got in by sleeping with Gary Lineker and expects the same of you, even if you work in Tesco. Don’t deny it. He respects a woman who’s sucked someone off for a go on the Whoops! sticker gun.

‘My grandad wasn’t gassed at Ypres so women could be slags’

If it wasn’t for brave men like Joey’s grandad he wouldn’t have free speech to express his important opinion that women are basically whores. He’ll ensure you understand the full gravity of that 1917 sacrifice by explaining how mustard gas makes your lungs fill up with bloody mucus, even if it’s putting you off your bolognese.

‘Shut up about man things’

You may try to comment on things only men understand. He’ll nip this in the bud. Areas women should not speak of include: fishing, science, cars, films, politics, food, aliens, animals and beer. To be honest it’s not a huge problem, because you’ll mainly be discussing Joey’s goals and court appearances.

‘Women have smaller brains, therefore the Lionesses lost 1-0 to Spain’

Because woman have big hips for babies they have small brains, like walnuts. Which is why women’s football is such a joke. When a ball comes towards them they won’t give it a good kick because they think it’s a baby and start lactating, Joey explains kindly, worrying you’ll struggle with the long words.

‘Did we fight Nazi zombies so perverts can use ladies’ toilets?’

In the war Britain stood alone against the Nazi zombies, and all for what? For men to go in women’s toilets? Joey brushes aside any attempt to inform him that the Nazis weren’t zombies and never conquered the moon. ‘I know what he saw,’ he hisses.

‘Do you want me to arm wrestle that bloke over there?’

By this point, Joey is less than coherent. It is unclear which man he is referring to, or what point he feels it will prove. Your response is irrelevant, because he will not hear anything you say.

‘You’re like Rose West’

Ultimately, Joey will close the date by comparing you, because you are a woman, to Rose West. If you don’t like it you can’t take a joke, and the last thing he has time for is a relationship with a self-important twat who has no idea what an arse they’re making of themselves.

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Sexting actually very stressful

SENDING sexually explicit messages to arouse a partner is actually confusing, stressful and easily ruined by autocorrect, lovers have confirmed. 

The practice is meant to be an intimate moment shared only between two people and their mobile service provider but in reality combines all the awkwardness of sex with none of the genital stimulation.

Nathan Muir, aged 43, said: “Describing the mechanics of sex really detracts from the fun of it. It’s like watching snooker blindfolded.

“And what do you say? I want to be accurate during our erotic exchanges so that it’s broadly realistic while not ruining the mood, but it’s irritating when a minute ago her hand was on my thigh and now it’s apparently rubbing my chest. Did it move? When?

“Then she asks me if she’s been a naughty girl. Saying ‘yes’ seems the right way to go, but she’s a 42-year-old bookmaker’s assistant from Chorley and I’m not sure she qualifies. What’s naughty? Can you be spanked for driving in the bus lane?

“And that’s before we move to the climax. Am I supposed to act out an orgasm? Do I have to repeatedly type ‘oh f**k yes’? Or do I send ‘huig94gt9r5eghiig’ to imply I’ve lost control of my typing? Because that’s not very sexy.”