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Romantic story of how grandparents got together creepy and harrowing to modern ears

THE heartwarming story of how your grandfather wooed your grandmother has you considering whether to report him to the police. 

Joseph Turner often proudly regales his grandchildren with the story of how he pursued his wife of fifty years, Margaret, with no notion of how deeply sinister his behaviour was or how many boundaries it ignored.

Joseph explained: “Maggie was five years younger than me and a third year at the girls’ school. I was working at the firm by then and looking for a wife.

“One day I noticed her at the bus stop and I decided to follow her home. When I found out where she lived, I waited outside her house every evening. She told me that she wasn’t interested and begged me to go away, but I didn’t!

“In the end I wore her down, and she let me take her out to a dance. She’d never had a drink before, but after a few glasses of champagne I drove her to a secluded spot and asked her to marry me. I said that if she didn’t say yes, I’d drive us both off a cliff.

“And now we’ve been together for 50 happy years! Yes, you may freely note she is only 84.”

Grandson Dominic said: “I had to say, Grandad, that is incredibly f**ked up. You stalked and coerced her. You’re basically Harvey Weinstein.”

But Margaret said: “Oh, it was a different time. Believe me, he was one of the good ones.”

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Britain experiences first documented case of barbecue fatigue

A HOSPITAL has admitted the first-ever British man suffering from a debilitating sickness of barbecuing every bloody weekend. 

55-year-old Martin Bishop, like all men, began summer planning to burn meat outside with minimum food hygiene precautions whenever the weather permitted him to, which he expected to be a maximum of two times.

But the unprecedented heatwaves mean he is now required to show off his signature marinade to other middle-aged men with limited hobbies every weekend and he quickly became fatigued.

He said: “At first it was great. I was buying 12 different varieties of sausages, I was nurturing that charcoal more than I did my first-born, and my novelty LET THE GOAT COOK apron was getting laughs. It has a goat on it. In a chef’s hat.

“But it’s been months now. I’m tired, I’m sweaty, I’m standing there in intense heat leaning over a concentrated source of even more heat. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss vegetables.

“Plus, thinking about it, we paid a lot of money for an oven that heats things from all four sides, yet there I am manually turning chunks of meat like a peasant. And where’s the thrill of barbecuing without the mild peril of oncoming rain?”

Martin’s wife Donna said: “Martin has been struck down by the agony of realising when you carry out an essential household task, such as cooking, quite frequently it is no longer fun. Who knew.”

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