Five reasons your bank balance keeps plunging that can't be blamed on Trump

TRUMP’S tariffs are causing economic chaos, but stupid financial decisions closer to home might be the real reason you’re broke. Here are some you keep imposing on yourself.

Shit weekend spending decisions

Trump hasn’t imposed retaliatory tariffs on the three rounds you bought on Friday night, and his economic policies didn’t target the Uber you had to get home after missing the last train. Those were your financial choices, and while they haven’t made the front of the newspapers or crashed Asian markets, they were arguably just as ruinous on a personal level. Or will be when you keep doing them every weekend, which you do.

Multiple streaming subscriptions

Streaming platforms aren’t cheap, even if you’re paying for the crap subscriptions with all the adverts. Factor in that you’re paying for half a dozen of the bastard things a month and it’s no surprise that your bank account is in freefall. It wouldn’t be so bad if you were actually using them, but you bounced on Severance after two episodes and forgot to cancel your direct debit to Apple TV+.

Impulse Amazon purchases

The trouble with buying vintage issues of Warlord or a stuffed waffle maker from Amazon is that it still counts as spending money. You might think it doesn’t because all you’re doing is clicking around on your phone at half two in the morning, but check your bank statements and you’ll find corresponding sums whizzing out. Next time you’re tempted to add to basket, see if you can fill the void with cheaper drugs.

Annoyingly expensive social obligations

You’d almost be in the black if you didn’t have to fork out for pricey train tickets to visit your parents and dig deep for birthday presents, date nights and day trips with your friends. The implosion of global stock markets might impact these costs in abstract ways, but the real blame falls at the feet of peer pressure and your inability to disappoint the group chat.

All of the other societal factors from the last 20 years

It’s easy to direct all of your vitriol towards Trump, but that’s ignoring the bigger picture. The economy has been on its arse for the last 20 years, and wages have stagnated while prices continue to skyrocket. Factor in Brexit, the pandemic and war, and you should count yourself lucky if you have a tenner to your name. So you’re probably feeling better now. Probably time to treat yourself to a flying orb on a whim. They look great fun if they work.

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Why, as a 44-year-old man, I am too young to think of settling down

By Tom Logan

I GET it. Women on apps expect a man of my age to have settled down. The ones aged 24 to 29 anyway. I don’t know what ones over 30 would say. They’re not in my Tinder age range

So as soon as they see my ‘distinguished’ but also youthful image dangled tantalising before them, they’re desperate to lock this down and get those genes passed on. 

They ask why I’ve never married, had kids or learnt to put on a fitted sheet, shocked that no lady’s ever been able to tame this stallion. And I say to them: take it as a challenge. Live up to the task.

Because, as I reassure the lucky girls, I’m not completely against the idea of one day getting a mortgage, committing to one person and eating a dinner that isn’t microwaved. But I’m only 44. If I married I’d practically be a child husband and Unicef should be getting involved to save me. I’m only just out of my thirties and still decades off my fifties, mentally. 

Besides, I have had long-term relationships that have gone on for years. Sure, women claim those are really just six one-night stands with one person spread over eight years because I kept sliding back into her DMs when I was horny. So?

Even if I did let myself be hogtied and dragged to the altar now, I’d just spend married life miserable about all the cool stuff I could be doing instead of driving some 40-year-old to the WI. How could I give up the skateboarding, the clubbing, the endless parade of hot 20-somethings eager for a piece of the Loganmeister General? 

As for kids – at 44, I’m barely able to take care of myself, let alone a tiny human who will one day mock me for having had Facebook. So yes, while some men my age are planning family holidays and sheds, I am struggling to keep a houseplant alive in the flatshare living room.

Check back in another 10 years. I might be ready then. But, honestly, no promises.