If NHS can only be saved by immigration it's not worth saving, says Britain

THE British have decided that if the cost of preventing the complete collapse of the NHS is a load of foreigners coming over, we should just bin it.

Since 1948 the NHS was considered one of the jewels in Britain’s crown, offering free medical treatment to all via general taxation, but many of the public feel it would better to have no medical treatment at all than more people with funny surnames.

Others feel that unusual bread and sausages sold in Polish shops are a compelling reason to hand the whole operation over to private insurance companies.

Window cleaner Tom Logan, 58, said: “For half my working life I’ve relied on the NHS for a series of ongoing ailments. Without it, I’d be tens of thousands of pounds in debt.

“But an NHS employing people from a slightly different culture would be unbearable. I’d rather die in agony than be treated by someone who wasn’t a lifelong fan of Stoke City FC, or had never eaten mushy peas.

“They come over here in their dinghies with their balalaikas and strange food, thinking they can live it up at the British taxpayer’s expense working 14-hour shifts. Those jobs should be filled by exhausted, demoralised, underpaid, indigenous NHS staff who are currently leaving in droves.”

Gift shop owner Donna Sheridan agreed: “Call me racist, but I don’t want a sleazy Albanian pimp or a West Indian voodoo man treating my angina, which would definitely happen.

“Let’s move to private health insurance which I haven’t thought properly about at all. If you can’t afford 25 grand for a broken leg, you’ll just have to live with a wonky one. That’s what us Brits are made of – ill-informed bloodymindedness.”

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'Dogs Playing Poker' and other artworks that ought to be in the Louvre

THE Mona Lisa? Boring. The public would queue for hours to see the originals of these masterpieces: 

Dogs Playing Poker, by Cassius Marcellus Coolidge

The Louvre gets 2.8 million visitors a year, but imagine how many more they’d get if they ditched the Caravaggio for paintings of dogs playing poker. Michaelangelo didn’t paint these because he lacked artistic imagination, wasting his talents churning out boring pictures about stuff from the Bible.

Tennis Girl Scratching Arse, by Martin Elliot

Géricault’s Raft of the Medusa might be famous, but it’s never inspired teenage boys to knock one out. Tennis Girl led the charge of posters-as-soft-porn and it was on sale in Woolworths next to the pick-and-mix. Dewy-eyed 70s adolescents would admire it reverently.

Magic Eye images

Many say the Renaissance period, with artists such as Da Vinci, Botticelli and Titian, was the peak of Western civilisation’s artistic endeavours. Those people must have missed the Magic Eye revolution. Initially colourful noise, but stare at it cross-eyed for long enough and a horse or a car suddenly swims into view. You don’t get that with Rembrandt.

Che Guevara in a beret, by Alberto Korda

The French bloody love berets, so the absence of Che Guevara in a beret from the Louvre is a mystery. They should ditch the Venus de Milo, which doesn’t even have arms, for the iconic image of Che, beloved of Marxists who also very much like weed.

Trainspotting poster

Every student flat in the late 1990s had the Trainspotting poster on the back of the bathroom door. Featuring the opening ‘choose life’ monologue from the film, students who read it while having a crap could now use it as a checklist for all the stuff they’ve got.

The Wings of Love, by Stephen Pearson

A naked woman in front of a swan with a 40ft wingspan with a naked man stepping lightly from one wing, this surreal artwork is the equal of anything by Hironymous Bosch. The Louvre’s stuffed to the brim with nudes so its omission is utterly baffling.