Bag of quinoa in man's cupboard outlasts three girlfriends

A HALF-USED bag of quinoa in a kitchen cupboard has outlasted its owner’s last three relationships, he has realised.

Tom Booker bought the bag in 2016 in an attempt to impress a girl he was seeing who read books and listened to Radio 4, and it has remained in his home through a further two failed relationships.

He said: “I bought it to put in salads, which I don’t like, and this makes them even worse.

“But however much I use it never seems to go down. It’s like a mealy Terminator.

“I bought it for Emma, who rightly spotted it as a desperate attempt to pretend to be who I’m not, and kept it through Leanne, who didn’t even notice it, and through Natalie, who hated and laughed at me for having it. I miss her.”

Booker’s ex Emma Bradford said: “Perhaps when the bag is empty the curse will be broken and Tom will find the person for him. Or maybe when he finds the perfect girl they’ll finish it together.

“Or maybe he’s just a lazy bastard who eats spaghetti on toast five nights a week.”

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'My only consolation is that whoever follows me will be far worse'

by Theresa May

A GREAT many unkind things have been said about me since my resignation on Friday. I have been called dishonest, ill-prepared, deluded and hopeless.

But I have one consolation; that in months to come I will look like a shining example of selfless statesmanship compared to the prime minister who comes after me.

No matter who wins the Conservative leadership contest, and what outlandish promises they make to do so, their failure is assured. However they will not fail slowly and with a certain doomed dignity, as I did, collapsing with the grace of a drunken giraffe.

Their failure will be swift, brutal and certain. Before they have unpacked the box with the toaster in they’ll be facing mutinous colleagues, unbeatable parliamentary arithmetic and the EU very politely, in 27 different languages, telling them to fuck off.

Imagine Boris coping with that. He’ll barely have given his little PR girl a Downing Street tupping when the first knife goes into his back. Imagine Gove suddenly realising that he thought everyone hated him already but that was the tip of the iceberg.

Raab, McVey, Mourdaunt, that twat Brady; it doesn’t matter who it is. They won’t have been in the job two months and they’ll be losing an election to Karl Marx’s garden gnome and a pint of beer that smokes fags.

After them, Britain will look back on the May years as the good times much like Soviet Russia missed the Tsar. Now sod off. I’m catching up on Midsomer Murders.

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