Things you can't be expected to do because it's Friday

IS life making unreasonable demands of you today? It’s Friday, so you’re allowed to get out of these incredibly stupid so-called ‘responsibilities’.

Getting out of bed

You’re joking, right? You’ve already lurched out of bed relatively early four times this week, and not once has it ended well. There must be some law somewhere that states you’re entitled to remain in bed for the duration of Friday on company pay. It’s not like you’d be productive if you headed into the office anyway. Because it’s Friday.

Looking presentable

Nope, not gonna happen. By the end of the week everyone looks like a beleaguered, dishevelled mess with scraggly hair and unruly stubble, regardless of their gender. Why else do you think dress-down Fridays were invented? There’s safety in numbers, and if everyone looks like a character in a TV movie about alcoholism then nobody will notice.

Going to work

F**k off with that. Although, in the spirit of compromise and needing to pay your bills, you will go to work physically. From nine until five you will remain propped up in front of your computer while your mind daydreams about the epic lie-in you’re going to have tomorrow. Also, UK employment law states you cannot be sacked for spending most of Friday eating donuts and finding funny things on the internet, although we’d check that.

Making small talk

No, just no. Grindingly tedious chat about the weird dream someone’s partner had last night or their f**king loft conversion is impossible to tolerate when you’re this close to the weekend. Get out of it by saying you’ve got an agonising migraine and slipping on noise-cancelling headphones. Consider extending this life-changing ailment to the other four days of the week.

Remaining sober

As if. Fridays offer you maximum recovery time, so you’d be stupid not to make the most of this alcohol abuse opportunity. Start your Friday with beers at lunch – or at least be in the pub by 4.45pm sharp – or a few cans if you’re homeworking, and within hours you’ll be so drunk you’ve forgotten what day of the week it is anyway. By the time you sober up it’ll be Saturday, and you bloody love Saturdays.

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Sexual activities you're irrationally worried you've never tried

DO you feel you’ve missed out on certain sexual experiences, even if they never appealed that much in the first place? Societal pressure can’t be wrong, so make sure you try these…

A threesome

A valid concern is what you say while you’re doing it. ‘Can I put this in there?’, ‘Is it okay if I ejaculate with Suzi, not you, Emma? Nothing personal’, ‘Oh, you’ve both come, I thought you’d want my input’. Let’s face it, it’s going to be awful. Still, ask your partner if any of their friends would be up for it. Not Abigail. She’s really bossy and scares you a bit.

Making love on a beach

Let’s hope you’ve got 700 quid spare for a flight to Australia or you’re going to be rutting in cold sand and drizzle in Llandudno while praying a wave doesn’t drench you in raw effluent. However it’s allegedly sexy so grit your teeth and get on with it. You can have a deep-fried donut to warm up afterwards.


God, this looks horrible. However it must be enjoyable or people wouldn’t do it, right? Your days of sexual timidity are over, so try being fisted repeatedly, only later remembering that people also enjoy tinned turkey, Mrs Brown’s Boys and nailing their scrotum to a plank of wood.

Anal play 

All the rage at the moment. ‘Why you should try pegging with your partner today’ says an article not in Cosmo or Hustler, but Metro. That’s incredibly mainstream, and the British press would never support a bad idea, so order a strap-on from Amazon now. Get an anal speculum and a couple of fox tail butt plugs while you’re at it. Just don’t lose interest after spending a fortune on your new hobby, like when you planned to learn the saxophone. God, that was embarrassing.

Sex in public 

Sex on a train is out. It all went off fine in Risky Business, but Tom Cruise and Rebecca De Mornay weren’t on a filthy Northern Line train rammed with depressed office workers and Polish builders. A knee-trembler in a deserted shopping arcade or a park is a better bet. Just try to ignore the skateboarders staring at you. If you finally conclude that beds are nice and the best place for sex, you’re obviously a repressed sexual puritan.


Wife swapping seems fairly okay in John Updike novels. Admittedly his 1970s academic pals were probably a bit sexier and more intellectual than your local suburban swingers, but it’s on your bucket list now. With luck there’ll be a couple of reasonably fit ones among your saggy, Daily Express-reading neighbours, and even if it’s a mentally-scarring journey into sexual Hell, you can at least ask Geoff if you can borrow his pressure washer.

Phone sex

The difficulty arises in saying things like ‘I’m touching myself now’, or ‘I’m imagining you’re inside me’. Ew. Cringe. But that’s what you’re going to have to do – your partner isn’t going to climax from you talking about Masterchef. Although it’d be bloody handy if they did: ‘John Torode’s not impressed with the souffle!’ (Screams of sexual ecstasy) ‘That was amazing! You’re so good in bed!’