UK immigration policy switches from 'f**k off' to 'come back'

THE UK has stopped aggressively telling non-nationals to f**k off out of it and has started aggressively demanding they come back.

With a shortages of cheap foreign labour posing a threat to things British people like, such as driving cars and Christmas, the government has ordered at least 500,000 non-citizens to return immediately.

Home secretary Priti Patel said: “You were told in no uncertain terms to naff off back to whichever horrible foreign country you came from, and you complied. Good. Now we need you back because no-one here wants to kill chickens.

“They also don’t enjoy picking vegetables, driving HGVs or caring for the elderly because of the hostile environment, shit wages and open loathing of anyone who earns less than £40k a year and didn’t go to a school we’ve heard of.

“We are temporarily in need of you so get back here, do the work and we’re kicking you out on Christmas Eve. Which is better than you filthy mongrels deserve.” 

Slovakian HGV driver Miroslav Varga said: “You think I’m delivering your pigs-in-blankets in return for crapping in laybys and wages that are the arse bollocks? Hmm, let me think.”

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Six things that were perfectly fine till gastropubs buggered about with them

ONCE upon a time, pepper was pepper. Then gastropubs got their hands on it and now it’s cracked black pepper. Here’s some other things they’ve buggered up: 


Salt’s as basic an ingredient as you can get, so it’s nowhere near gastropub standard without a poncy name. The upgrade is Cornish air-dried sea salt, even though the south coast of Cornwall is the English Channel and full of raw sewage.


Crockery’s too 20th century. No gastropub would stoop to it. Instead your spatchcock will be served on a plank, and you’ll spend the meal carefully herding food away from the edges while beaming broadly to indicate that’s fine.


No-one’s exactly sure what pulled pork actually is. It sounds vaguely like the chef’s sidled up to it in a nightclub and turned on the charm, but when it arrives at your table, it looks like it’s been through a wood chipper. But in a gastropub it’s the only pork you’re allowed, apart from pork that’s been aged for a dangerously long time.


Artisanal cheese is the secret to a gastropub burger, that and artisanal Kansas City sesame buns, and candied bacon, and Hereford ground chuck. Basically adjectives about and skewer your burger and you too can turn out a gastropub-quality meal.

Scotch eggs

Buggering about with a service station classic by adding pepper to the sausage meat, wild Norfolk garlic to the breadcrumbs and leaving the yolk runny means that it now costs £12 and has to be eaten with a knife and fork. And it’s a Caledonian egg.

Massive pie with everything thrown in

To spend an entire meal dubiously chewing items of unknown provenance go for the signature pie. It says it’s free-range chicken and smoked German bacon, but they’ve also thrown in tarragon, capers, peppers, garlic, braised beef, speck and the chef’s signature gravy. ‘What the f**k was that?’ you’ll still be asking days later.