Northerners delighted to see what scum Southerners really are

NORTHERNERS are enjoying the scenes at Bournemouth beach that prove once and for all that Southerners are just scum with fancy accents. 

Huge crowds of idiots flinging litter in Bournemouth, Southend and Durdle Door have confirmed to Northerners that the South might imagine itself posh and cultured, but is actually a cesspit of bull-necked, piggy-eyed, foul-mouthed louts. 

Northerner Jordan Gardner said: “I took a constitutional along the promenade at Morecambe Sands the other day. Everyone was distancing, greeting each other with a polite tip of the hat and taking their rubbish home with them. 

“Meanwhile in Bournemouth, where apparently they think they’re so good, they’re packed onto the sands fighting and f**king and crapping in burger boxes like angry red apes. 

“We’ve let them get away with this myth that they’re better than us for too long. They’re the absolute dregs. People should wind up their windows when they drive through the Cotswolds. 

“The next time I meet someone from Henley-on-Thames, I’m going to thrust a can of Stella and a bucket of KFC into their hands to pacify them then back away carefully.” 

Southerner Julian Cook said: “Yeah, we’re massive arseholes with slightly more money.” 

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Jogger beats their personal best at being a smug, annoying bastard

A SELF-SATISFIED jogger has just smashed their personal best at being an all-round insufferable bastard, it has emerged.

Ryan Whittaker surpassed himself on his latest run by not making room for pedestrians, posting his time to social media and droning on about the benefits of running to bored friends.

Whittaker said: “There’s more to running than moving fast and looking like a twat. You’ve also got to cultivate an obsessive, fairly repellent personality if you want to make a success of it.

“I’d set a really high bar for myself by wearing inappropriately short shorts and a needlessly expensive vest. So you can imagine how amazing I feel today, both physically and mentally.

“The highlight was when I sped past an elderly man with a walking stick, who must have been devastated at the sight of my toned legs powering away like pistons.

“Even when I’m not running you’ll find me watching Chariots of Fire or repeats of the London Marathon. Did I tell you I’m already training for next year’s race? Let me tell you again.”

Friend Nikki Hollis said: “The only way Ryan can raise his game now is to become a hardcore cycling wanker.”