Five knobheads Good Morning Britain could stick next to Susanna Reid

WHO could possibly fill Piers Morgan’s clown shoes? Well, any one of these knobheads could step in as Good Morning Britain co-host seamlessly: 

Jeremy Clarkson

Providing a perfect example of ‘be careful what you wish for’, there’s now nothing to stop Jezza sliding in to spout lightly sanitised versions of his Sun columns while dancing around racial slurs. Except that, in a rare case of laziness being a virtue, there’s no way he could be arsed.

Paul Hollywood

Want Susannah to look even more uncomfortable? Put this silvered lothario next to her. Hollywood would love to diversify his portfolio by strutting around the Good Morning Britain studio, splitting hairs over perfectly adequate news reports, flirting with a clearly disgusted Charlotte Hawkins, and telling Lorraine she’s too old for him.

Nigel Farage

No stranger to the show, Nigel takes away all that unpleasant tension about what he might say next because it will absolutely, no shadow of a doubt, be racist. Would drink pints and smoke from 6.30am onwards, which to be honest it’d be nice to see.

Gordon Ramsay

Good Morning Britain goes out live so someone with the reflexes of a fighter pilot would need to be hired to censor his expletives, but if you want some to be f**king angry at Matt Hancock he’d do it. Might cross the line and threaten to ‘come down to Westminster and f**king strangle you with these two hands’ which again captures the country’s mood.

Roland Rat

The saviour of TV-am would bring decades of presenting experience to the role and his brash, overbearing personality would be a busman’s holiday for Susanna Reid. Viewers would quickly realise that society has dumbed down so much that an 80s puppet is now a heavyweight presenter of real gravitas, expertly grilling politicians and dissecting issues, and they’d turn off in record numbers.

Sign up now to get
The Daily Mash
free Headlines email – every weekday

Twats out and about, and the other signs spring has sprung

IS the long lockdown winter finally over? Have we begun our long, wet, dull, Easter egg-eating lockdown spring? These are the signs: 

Loads of twats out and about

You might have seen the population of your town double in recent weeks, with twats turning up in their droves to trample on daffodils, chat shit at each other and generally ruin the park for everyone else. Their winter hibernation is over and their cries of ‘Nah bollocks mate’ echo over our hills once again.

Bloody hay fever’s coming on

No, that tickle in your throat isn’t Covid and nor is it a cold, because you’ve been nowhere and seen no-one. It’s just your body’s immune system firing on all cylinders because you’ve inhaled a tiny bit of tree pollen. Enjoy the misery of the next six months.

Bastard joggers everywhere

2021 was a year for postponing resolutions, but now the weather’s less paralysingly bleak pavements are filling with red-faced middle-aged men in tight-fitting lycra, who will absolutely not move out of the way for a pram or wheelchair.

Unsuitable coat weather

In these awkward weeks, putting on your winter coat will make you sweat like Prince Andrew would if he only could, while donning a light jacket will see you blue-knuckled as you hug it round yourself. You might consider a gilet, if you don’t mind looking like a wanker who owns an organic winery and two black labradoodles.

The house is a tip

Daylight streaming in makes dusty skirting boards and wine-stained carpets a lot harder to ignore. You’re still not going to do anything about it, but insisting cobwebs are environment-friendly extra insulation is wearing thin.

Some miserable bugger saying ‘Spring gets earlier every year’

The most obvious sign that spring is upon us is a miserable old bastard complaining that the crocuses are coming out earlier and earlier, and soon the Earth will be transformed into a fireball which can no longer sustain human life. I mean yeah, but aren’t they pretty?