Accidentally staying up doing f**k all until 1am again: a guide

DO you often have good intentions of getting an early night and instead find yourself mindlessly scrolling through your phone at 1.27am? Here’s how it happens.


You’ve finished dinner, done the washing up, and have your sights set on reading for a couple of hours before getting an early night. In fact, you’ve been so diligent today, why not reward yourself with a glass of wine?


Okay, so you’ve finished two glasses of wine and are halfway through an episode of Line of Duty, but there’s still plenty of time to get some reading done after. Although your increasingly wine-addled brain is finding it difficult to follow exactly what’s going on in the show.


You’ve spent the best part of an hour trawling through Line of Duty plot summaries trying to remember how everything fits into the previous series. Your book is going to keep gathering dust for another night, but hey, Wikipedia counts as reading, right? May as well finish the last of the wine in the bottle anyway.


A query you posted in your building’s WhatsApp group about recycling has snowballed into a heated debate on mask-wearing. You’ve said some pretty unsavoury things to Mr Pearson on the third floor that you’ll regret when the wine wears off. But why are you so hungry all of a sudden?


You’ve finally made it to bed, but not before fixing yourself a massive sandwich to take with you. You’re filled with regret and copious amounts of wafer thin ham, and are far too full to fall asleep now, and far too pissed to even think about reading.


You look up from your phone, where you’ve been watching YouTube compilation videos of dogs falling into swimming pools, to see the clock reading 1am. You have failed, yet again, to have a responsible evening. Still, there’s always tomorrow.

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Pub, think men

MEN across the UK are living on autopilot this weekend while thinking only ‘pub’, they have confirmed. 

With pubs set to open on Monday, males aged between approximately 18 and 80 are watching TV, mowing the lawn and playing with their kids while entirely focused on pub.

47-year-old Nathan Muir said: “Pub. Pub pub pub. Pub, pub pub, pub pub. Sorry, I’m doing it again aren’t I?

“That’s just my internal monologue. In fact I meant to say something that was relevant to what you’ve been talking about, which I was definitely listening to.

“I’m sorry. It’s just the winter, and being trapped in the house, and working on my laptop in the bedroom when I’m not downstairs homeschooling the kids, and nothing to do at weekends except a shitty walk, and now, finally, after all that, pub.

“Just that moment when I sit down and order and they bring me a freshly-pulled pint and I stare into its golden depths, and all time melts away, replaced by the eternal sunny afternoon of the pub.

“And then I’ll have another six pints and get absolutely wankered.”