Six things sold at the farmers' market that are f**k all to do with farms

EVERYONE loves an airy morning at the farmers’ market blowing a week’s wages on two items. But what the f**k have these got to do with farms?


Whether your farmers’ market is in Cheshire, Islington or Glasgow, one thing’s for sure: you’re nowhere near a sugar cane plantation. There simply isn’t the climate. So that fudge, competitively priced at just £3.75 for a tiny, tiny bag, is as locally sourced as the Range Rover it’s sold from.


You’ve just had a free sample of a pleasant but disappointingly low-alcohol liqueur from a dizzyingly wide range. But in what way are they farmed? Are there goats being fed nothing but fermented plums and cinnamon then being milked into bottles?


Ask the person at the stall if this lobster’s been farmed. ‘No,’ they’ll reply, aghast, ‘all our fish are caught wild by a small fleet of day boats on the Norfolk coast.’ Suggest if they’re so horrified by the very thought of farming perhaps they should f**k off somewhere else.


Not farmed. Made of farmed produce but so are Pringles. No farmer is sowing rows with flour and sugar and then harvesting a bumper crop of vanilla slices come September. Nobody’s plucking old-fashioned treacle tarts from a vine. They’re made in an industrial kitchen in Kettering.

Coffee beans

To be fair these are from a farm, but not within a thousand miles of the market in Ipswich they’re being sold at. The person selling them is not their farmer. Travelling here from Vietnam to sell you the beans would not be remotely cost-effective, even at these prices.

Hand-crafted greetings cards

It’s hard to imagine a farmer even sending a greetings card. It just seems like spending your days mucking out pigs before sending them off to slaughter would tear away the illusions of life’s niceness that greetings cards are designed to maintain. It goes without saying they don’t f**king make them.

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Everyone curious why woman with huge boobs not overjoyed about it

THE friends and partner of a woman with 38F breasts are perplexed as to why she seems less than thrilled about her generous blessings.

Sophie Rodriguez, aged 26, is the envy of her friends and her friends’ boyfriends, but seems to regard her coveted bosoms as an inconvenience and burden.

Pal Grace Wood-Morris said: “It’s really weird. Instead of saying things like ‘My humongous tits are my best feature, I am a goddess of love’ she moans they’re so heavy they give her backache.

“I’d love to have boobs even half that size, but she never even wears anything that shows off her cleavage because apparently ‘everyone stares’. Surely that’s the point?

“I said ‘I bet your boyfriend loves them,’ and she said ‘Yeah, he never f**king leaves them alone’ as if that was in some way a bad thing. It’s mystifying. They’re wasted on her.”

Boyfriend Oli O’Connor said: “All the other girls with big tits – glamour models, Kelly Brook, those ones in boxing rings – all seem to be permanently cheerful because of their lavish assets. Not Sophie.

“It’s a shame she can’t appreciate her magnificent bounty as the gift it is and giggle coquettishly at her good fortune. Perhaps while playing with a beach ball and in a bikini.”