The six post-pandemic twats to avoid at a festival this year

YOUNG people are getting ready for this summer’s festivals, as are vacuous wankers with two years of pent-up twattery to unleash: 

The Hugger

To this dude uncomfortably long embraces are the new normal. Loving life after lockdown and everyone in it, especially women aged 18-35, this twat is so glad social distancing is over he throws his welcoming arms around everyone. Again, particularly emphasising pretty girls.

The Conspiracist

A former militant anti-vaxxer who switched overnight to being an an armageddon doom-monger, he will consume all your precious moments of drug-induced befuddlement regurgitating half-remembered YouTubes about Russian-funded nanobots. That’s your paranoia sorted.

The Entrepreneur

Lockdowns were a unique business opportunity to this particular variant of übertwat. Getting into PPE procurement at the right time made him millions. With a lock-screen photo of himself at a Downing Street party, this disaster capitalist is a disaster to be around.

The Volcano Oversharer

Lying dormant for two years, this peppy exhibitionist will bounce around spilling beer and demanding a bump of coke wherever she goes, erupting a lava-hot stream of compressed lockdown bollocks. She’s really pleased to see you! No, like really pleased to see you? Like it’s so incredible to see you. Repeated ad infinitum.

The Post-Bedroom Influencer

With 35+ followers on Instagram, this twat gnaws at every sensitive nerve with faux American over-sincere humblebraggery, blagging any product possible in the desperate hope of attracting sponsors’ cash. No longer locked-down in her bedroom for the public’s safety, she’s super-psyched to be streaming Lewis Capaldi’s set to no-one.

The Away-From-Home Homeworker

Why would you ever leave work now you don’t have to? Inevitably in marketing, this twat hasn’t taken his AirPods out since 2019 and will lapse into a stream of buzzwords to a colleague just as Phoebe Bridgers is doing the quiet bit. Though mostly he’ll be telling people, loudly: ‘Yeah! I’m at a festival! Amazing mate!’

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The daytime reality show Jeremy Kyle will be hosting in Hell, by Satan

THE Horned One here. That documentary about Jeremy Kyle confirmed he’s one of mine, and we’ve a very special show lined up for him. Here’s the running order: 

Dysfunctional family disputes

The show will open with one of Jeremy’s labyrinthine family disputes, eg ‘My stepdad who’s also my common-law brother owed my Mum for weed…’ etcetera, but so convoluted and impossible to follow Jezza’s brain will literally explode, sending his eyeballs flying. Then that’s repeated from several angles with slo-mo.

The lie detector

Lie detectors are bullshit and shouldn’t be used to ruin lives for cheap entertainment. Except your life, Jeremy. When asked questions like ‘is fire hot?’ he’ll answer yes, the machine will say he’s lying and burly security demons will appear from backstage with branding irons to teach him to be truthful.

Bad dentistry

The exploitative appeal of The Jeremy Kyle Show was always a good sneer at the snaggle-toothed troglodytes who appeared. In an ironic punishment, Jezza will be cursed with an abscess in a molar and must fix it with just a rusty spoon before the ad break.

Taunting the guests

Jeremy is fond of bullshit like: ‘Think you’re a big man, eh? Want to step up here, big man?’ Only there’ll be no security and the guests will be the shrieking damned who’ll rip all his limbs off and chuck him on a barbecue. Then his limbs will reattach and it’ll keep happening. I got that from Doctor Faustus. Great guy.

Terrible addictions

Jeremy loved a guest with a substance problems. So he’ll love fighting his own hilarious addictions, like getting the shakes and hallucinating unless he downs a regular glass of cat’s piss, or being hooked on laxatives and the toilets being locked.

After the show

After a hard day’s filming a millennium-long show, Jeremy’s off home. To the sinkhole council estate he shares with his family of feral teenage demons who stick him in a burning wheelie bin and drag it behind their joyriding Fiesta. Over speedbumps.