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How to have a complete gammon makeover. By Sir Keir Starmer

TO win over Leave voters you’ve got to prove you’re one of them. Here’s how I’m going ‘full gammon’ in my latest pandering to Brexiters, writes Sir Keir Starmer.

Learn the sayings 

I’ve promised to embrace the ‘Take back control’ message, which is code for ‘I don’t like immigrants’, so that should bring in plenty of votes. I’m also practising shouting ‘Just get Brexit done!’ over any reasoned debate and saying ‘We won, suck it up’ in a sneering way. Then I somehow claim Remainers are the obnoxious ones. 

Understand f**k all about the EU

I’m too well-informed to make moronic comments like ‘We were paying a billion pounds a week to the EU army’ so I’ve tried hitting myself over the head with a brick. My doctor says I’ve lost 30 IQ points already. Another month of self-inflicted brain damage and I should be thick enough to really get behind Brexit.

Go on BBC Question Time 

In the audience, I mean. This seems to be a favourite hobby of Brexiters, so I had to give it a go. The secret is to be really angry but your point to be really garbled, so I said: ‘I’m sick of subsidising fish, when did the Spanish ever help Ukraine?’ I’m really getting the hang of this ‘gammon’ business.

Get the motor

Many gammons are also white van men, so I’ve ditched the leader of the opposition’s bulletproof Jag and bought a Ford Transit with a St George flag clipped to the roof because I bloody love my country. I went to the House of Commons in it today, which was fun because I could drive dangerously close to cyclists for a laugh and then I blocked someone’s drive. 

Deny it’s about immigration then say it’s about immigration 

I’ve been roaming the streets looking for TV news crews doing vox pops about Brexit. I found one and chuntered on about sovereignty and closed-down shops, before letting slip ‘And they need to do something about all the immigrants’. I felt it was a virtuoso performance. I was so deeply in character I actually didn’t want them here living eight to a room, bringing all their relatives and cooking food what smells funny.

Never shut up about snowflakes

I’ve really got into the mindset of despising young and/or considerate people. Last night I ranted incessantly about how snowflakes would have been useless during the Battle of Arnhem until my normally calm and gentle wife screamed ‘SHUT THE F**K UP YOU REPETITIVE F**KING BASTARD!’ and threw a bowl of spinach dhal at me. 

Get the red-faced gammon look

Due to playing football regularly I haven’t got the classic cusp-of-a-coronary gammon look. I tried make-up but just looked like an offensive gay stereotype. Luckily I discovered drinking a bottle of vodka a day under a UV lamp makes your capillaries burst most effectively. Now I feel the Brexit vote is almost in the bag, unless everyone realises what a pile of shit it is before the election, in which case I am deservedly f**ked.

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Seven ways takeaway deliveries will punish you for being a lazy bastard

FANCY having some fast food delivered because you can’t be arsed to bake a potato? Here’s how you will suffer karmic retribution for being a lazy shit.

The picture of your food lied

On the website your kebab looks grilled to perfection by a proud Turkish chef. What arrives looks like a run-over squirrel. Maybe it is. Maybe the delivery guy forgot the order, mowed down Tufty and stuck him in a polystyrene box to avoid going back to the shop.

The cooks appear not to have encountered common types of food

Some tips for takeaway ‘chefs’: pizza sauce is not ketchup, fried chicken should not have the texture of an oily sock, chips are not traditionally served raw. This, however, will teach you to order from a business that claims to simultaneously be expert in American, Italian, Turkish, Chinese, British and Indian cuisine yet operates out of a grotty takeaway in Crewe.

That weird spongy chicken

A staple of the worst takeaways is reconstituted chicken made from meat mush formed into shapes. Is it actually chicken or slices off a roll of foam rubber from Wickes? All you can be sure of is that it’s been through more scientific processes than Robocop.

‘What the f**k?’ prices

Certain outlets’ pricing defies logic, such as a medium pizza being 21 quid, plus another £7 for seven tiny chicken wings. So one meal is the cost of a modest basket of shopping, resulting in an economic anomaly like being able to buy a BMW 9 Series for £3.99. You’ll still order the pizza though, because nipping to Sainsbury’s is obviously impossible.

No dipping sauces 

You empathise with the harassed delivery people – except when they forget the dips again. Then the lazy peasants deserve a damn good flogging in public. Of course if you’d actually cooked some proper food you wouldn’t need to drown it in sweet chilli sauce for flavour, but let’s skip over that.

You wait… and you wait… and you wait…

And the food turns up two hours later, stone cold. You knew the tikka kebab with fries in cheesy sauce wasn’t exactly fine dining using only the best ingredients to begin with, but now it looks and tastes like cold, greasy offal encased in yellow rubber. 

Sociopathic delivery guy 

This guy seems to be unaware of the concept of ‘responsibility’. Instead he acts like the inedible food is fine and you’ve done something far worse, perhaps calling his sister a whore. You’ll start to feel as if it’s all your fault for helping him earn a living, which, in a way, it is.

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