How to care for a friend's Northerner while they're away

A FRIEND is in the Algarve, and you’ve been entrusted with the care of their Northerner. Here’s how to ensure he remains healthily gruff and bitter-supping: 

Prepare suitable accommodation

Contrary to popular supposition, Northerners do not sleep outside. Instead prepare a room with two bunk-beds and a bucket to urinate in, the outside lavatory being too far up the ginnel. Provide a mattress of cobbled linoleum, a tarpaulin and a sack of coal for a pillow. Ensure there are no holes in the sackcloth to arouse carnal temptation.

Feed and water him

Northerners require only three food groups: tea, beer and scran. The first two must be strong and the second served with a choice of red and brown sauces. Fish, chips, fish-and-chips, brawn, scouse and hotpot are all options for meals, as are 12 frozen Iceland Chicken Kievs.

Keep him cold

Hot weather is challenging for the Northerner by reminding him the sky exists. Keep in a small, draughty yard with pigeons, scrubbed daily by a woman in rollers. Hose down with rain every other hour.

Exercise him

Exercise for its own sake is ‘bloody daft’. Instead ride him up a steep cobbled street on a rickety bike at sunrise to deliver a loaf of bread and a quart of goose fat. He may also attempt to mine, which it is wise to allow as stopping him could result in strikes.

Avoid injury

In no circumstances take your Northerner to a hospital, even if he’s lost a limb. He does not ‘hold with’ hospitals. Instead, administer first aid at the scene by disinfecting the wound with tea and bandaging with the shirt sleeve that isn’t used to wipe the nose.

Avoid contact with strangers

Northerners are chatty when roused so be cautious in exposing him to others. Tales of being belted by parents and brawling with livestock are unsuited to company. Under no circumstances allow your Northerner to come into contact with a neighbour’s Northerner or they will instinctively build a den.

Hide sophistication

When asked why you are drinking Vimto out of a puff’s glass, do not explain to your Northerner it is Merlot. That knowledge will confuse him and may infect him with aspirations. Keep him proudly humble. Allowing him to develop a taste for lattes will see him trampled to death in a factory queue by his peers or exiled to moorland.

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Vegan man conflicted by urge to barbecue

A MAN who does not eat animal products is at the same time gripped with the heat-induced urge to grill something fatty and oozing with delectable juices. 

Like a sleeper agent activated by sunlight, Joseph Turner is fighting the desire to slap raw, bloody meat onto an uncleaned pit of charcoal and watch over it with the possessiveness of a mother swan.

He said: “Normally I’m plant-based and smug about it, but once the mercury’s over 28? I feel I should be spearing a pig then roasting it with an apple in its mouth and sunglasses on.

“An hour of Saturday sunshine and I’ve forgotten my ethical principles, the notion of seasoning, all food hygiene. Nothing compared to the raw power of lording it over all your friends’ stomachs with a pair of tongs that looks like a gynaecological instrument.

“Sure, there are meat alternatives, but it’s shaming to barbecue a veggie skewer. I want to poke and prod ultra-processed slabs until they are charred, dishevelled, and still uncooked enough to kill whoever eats them, because that’s what a man does.

“I could just burn some hickory chips, couldn’t I? That’s not barbecuing. There’s no danger I’ll black out and come to in front of a ketchup-smeared paper plate and an empty ten-pack of Sainsbury’s smash burgers.”

Girlfriend Eleanor said: “It’s not easy for men. I’ve explained to him that barbecuing is actually sublimating the primal desire to get shitfaced in the garden.”