Six unmarried pop stars you still have a chance with: a guide for deluded men

DUA Lipa is off the market. But do not let that deter you, an overweight man in Reading, from your quest to land a hot, high-earning pop princess. All these are still available: 

Sabrina Carpenter

Riding high with hit after hit, but still hasn’t managed to snag herself a husband. Used to be with Barry Keoghan so unconventionally attractive isn’t a problem. Enter you, a middle-aged technical support engineer with no celebrity connections. She’ll love your grounded lifestyle and at five foot three you’ll tower over her. Slide into her DMs, king.

Lily Allen

Tread carefully with this future wife. Not because Lily Allen’s been on the receiving end of a particularly messy marriage, but because if you so much as forget to put the bins out it’ll be immortalised on a three-disc concept album putting your every flaw on blast. Still, Harbour’s set the bar low and she’s vulnerable. Try your luck.

Lady Gaga

Marriage? Far too conventional for Gaga. The idea of settling down with a morbidly obese unemployed South Shields man with a council flat and gambling debts? That’s a post-modern performance art piece and just her thing. Force yourself on stage at an arena show and get down on one knee. Play it cool when she says yes.

Ariana Grande

The singer and Wicked star appears to have it all, except for a dadbod husband with a receding hairline to come home to. You’re already there in terms of physique. All you need is to attract her attention, and your upcoming conviction for criminal damage and public urination should make headlines in the Southend Echo. She’s as good as yours.

Chappell Roan

Thinks she’s a lesbian, but only because she’s spent her life around Hollywood pretty boys and hasn’t met a real man with excess body hair, a flat above a chip shop and a 2002-reg Ford Ka. Send her a sexually explicit missive and she’ll soon wipe off the face paint and be down your local trying to catch your eye. Advise her to arrive before 6pm or you’ll be pissed.

Taylor Swift

She’s not married yet. There’s still a month to go, and if she wants a washed-up former footballer who spends all his time with his brother then you had trials for Oldham Athletic in 1998, and that’s proper football, love. Attracting her attention? The method you used to win your last girlfriend – writing graffiti on bus stops – worked last time. Why not now?

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'That's summer over then' proclaims twat who's probably right

AN office arsehole has greeted the end of the May heatwave by saying ‘Hope you enjoyed summer,’ and the worst of it is that he may well be correct. 

Martin Bishop, aged 44, has accosted everyone he meets with the one-liner he mistakenly believes to be the pinnacle of ironic British humour, but is more likely to be an entirely accurate forecast.

He continued: “Apparently summer’s on a Wednesday next year! Eh? Eh? You like that one? Why the sour face mate, only a joke.

“Three months of chilly drizzle’s only going to make you appreciate your holiday more. And my gag, which is as British as greasy fish and chips in soggy newspaper and will surely only get funnier as the grey weeks roll on.

“After all, you can’t get more British than complaining about the weather, can you? That stiff upper lip, battling through valiantly in the face of adversity. It’s a classic. Everyone here’s just a miserable bastard who hates to laugh.”

Colleague Emma Bradford said: “He’s right about us being miserable bastards, but it’s not laughing we hate. It’s Martin.

“Is there any kind of old pagan tradition about sacrificing a regional sales manager to the gods in order to banish the clouds and guarantee a good summer? Because if not I’m willing to start one.”