Chilean Mine Starting To Sound Not Bad

BEING trapped down a mine shaft in Chile for four months is starting to sound not too bad, men across Britain said last night.

As the 33 miners were told they may not be out by Christmas, British men immediately pointed out that meant no commuting, free food pellets and a 16 week long, all-expenses paid farting competition.

Tom Logan, from Hatfield, said: “Okay so you wouldn’t see your wife for four months, but my wife’s a fucking pain in the arse.

“Also, I wouldn’t be crammed in, bumcheek to bumcheek, with dozens of sweaty proles before being spewed onto a platform and dragging myself to an office where I’m surrounded by stupid bloody women talking shit all day.”

He added: “Plus, they’re sending down anti-depressants, which, if you mix with vodka or whisky, could certainly make at least two or three weeks just fly by.”

Roy Hobbs, from Doncaster, said: “I imagine there will be a couple of weeks of Fight Club but you can always just take a dive in the first round and spend the rest of the contest betting with your happy pills.

“The only slight problem I can foresee is that it will absolutely fucking stink. I’ve been scouring the papers for any mention of toilet facilities, but so far nothing. Then again we are talking about 33 men so I imagine it has already developed into a contest over who can generate the most evil, puke-inducing stench. Jammy bastards.”

Martin Bishop, from Stevenage, said: “Apparently they have over a mile of tunnels to play with. Those men are going to have the best game of Cowboys and Indians in the history of the world.

“And of course when it comes to matters of sexual intercourse, I assume there will be a general rule of ‘what happens in the shaft, stays in the shaft’.”

Tom Logan added: “I’ve just realised that because it’s a group of men 700m underground there is no possibility of anyone at any point watching Grey’s Anatomy.

“I wish we still had mines in this country. Fucking Thatcher.”


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Your Astrological Week Ahead, With Psychic Bob

Virgo (23 AUG-22 SEP)
I’m afraid you’re decision to swap your office chair for a bottle of White Lighting means you can no longer describe yourself as a ‘functioning’ alcoholic.

Libra (23 SEP-23 OCT)
No, I haven’t washed it. Why do you think you’re being paid time and a half?

Scorpio (24 OCT-21 NOV)
Make new friends, but keep the old. The first are silver, the second are gold. And the ones that don’t mind giving you the odd knee-trembler with no strings attached are fucking platinum.

Sagittarius (22 NOV-21 DEC)
After agonising amusingly over the intangible complexities of love against a beautiful Manhattan backdrop, you come to a dramatically satisfying, bittersweet conclusion. Now repeat for the next 35 bastarding years.

Capricorn (22 DEC-19 JAN)
This week, make some spurious claim about broadband speeds safe in the knowledge that it won’t make any real difference because your competitors are as full of shit as you are.

Aquarius (20 JAN-19 FEB)
Delight as archaeologists confirm that in 60,000 years’ time, one of the few remaining artefacts of 21st century civilisation will definitely be the four star review some student paper gave your fucking nightmare of a show.

Pisces (20 FEB-20 MAR)
After a flawless routine and a perfect dismount, you let yourself down by wiping your penis on the guinea pig.

Aries (21 MAR-19 APR)
Why not fool all your friends this week and pretend to have a stroke by sitting in drooling silence and feigning incontinence?

Taurus (20 APRIL – 20 MAY)
If you struggle to remember whether ‘i’ goes before ‘e’, just remember the simple rhyme: “I’m a fucking moron who should be herded into a camp with all the other morons”. You’d realise that doesn’t rhyme, if you weren’t such a fucking moron.

Gemini (21 MAY-20 JUN)
I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike. I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride it where I like. I also want to become mayor, impregnate some women, deny it and ruin a popular television quiz show. Can you guess who I am yet? (5, 7)

Cancer (21 JUN-22 JUL)
This week your wedding will get off to a shaky start when you repeat your vows while cupping the vicar’s testicles.

Leo (23 JUL-22 AUG)
I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That’s my
dream; that’s my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a
straight razor… and surviving. Jesus Christ, what time is it? I think I should probably go to bed.