The tabloids' guide to appalling coronavirus bullshit

NOW, more than ever, we need our tabloids. Here Sun journalist Roy Hobbs explains how their daily dose of shrieking, fabricated hysteria is keeping Brits sane in their darkest hour.

Hurrah for Boris

The first duty of the tabloids is to rally round the Dear Leader and boost the blond bombshell to the hilt. It’s our duty as responsible newspapers not to let it get out that he is clueless, self-serving and incompetent as that might cause mass panic.

Important statistics on Adele’s weight loss

We are bombarded with numbers every day during this pandemic but what do they mean and can we trust them? Only the tabloids will give you the stats you really need: the exact number of kilograms Britain’s svelte chanteuse has lost, as well as some other stuff we’ve made up about her mental health.

Clap for Winston Churchill, we won the bloody war!

During this national emergency, it is important to celebrate our history, if only to obliterate our present. On VE Day, England were officially declared winners over Germany. Test and trace all you like, Mrs Merkel, you’ll still get the same result.


OK, so we don’t actually feature naked breasts anymore because we’re pretending to be respectful to women. However, if we can find a woman in a bikini we will plaster her all over our pages so you can have a perv and we can criticise her for something.

Our campaign for you to have your ‘freedom’

We’re pretending we want you to have the freedom to go about your daily lives, but what we actually mean is the freedom to go to the shops and buy a tabloid because we’re all shitting ourselves that we’re about to go under.

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Five completely awful places you'd be right now if you weren't stuck at home

AS lockdown continues, you wish you were anywhere but home. What dreadful places might you be this weekend if you were unlucky enough to regain your freedom?

Taking your car for its MOT

Count your lucky stars you’re not currently waiting awkwardly in a tiny, grease-streaked mechanics office trying not to stare at Miss July from their 1997 topless calendar. All while you drink a weak cup of tea out of a novelty mug that reads ‘World’s Biggest Twat’ and worry about whether you’re about to be overcharged for a carburetor you don’t need.

On a stag do where you only know the groom

Fancy a holiday? Be careful what you wish for. Because that holiday could’ve been a stag do where you only know the groom. You’d be at East Midlands airport as we speak, with 17 hardnut Leicester City fans en route for three brutal nights in Prague, which starts with you being peer pressured into drinking 17 pints of Kozel.

Not even halfway round IKEA

Right now, you could be less that 50% through a family trip to IKEA, with hours to go before you get to enjoy three hot dogs and a bag of miniature Daim Bars. Instead of putting your feet up in idyllic self-isolation, you’d be somewhere near the lighting department desperately trying to remember a time before you entered this place.

Singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to a co-worker everyone hates

Not only could you be at work on the weekend, but you might be having to sing a stilted and insincere rendition of Happy Birthday whilst gathered round Lucian from Accounts’ computer. Luckily the days when we invited someone to blow on a cake before all eating a slice are over now, so hopefully you’ll never have to do this again.