Fresher's entirely new personality not a hit at home

A FRESHER’S entirely new personality, developed and nurtured during his first term at university, is proving surprisingly unpopular with his hometown friends.

18-year-old Jack Browne, who now spells his first name ‘jaq’ without capitals, has reinvented himself as a genderqueer astrology-obsessed singer-songwriter, only for his mates to describe it as ‘bullshit’.

Friend Oli O’Connor said: “Astrology? He never even looked at the horoscopes in the Sun when he was reading the football results. Now apparently he’s Aries with Scorpio f**king rising.

“And this whole thing where he sweeps his fringe down and mutters like Joaquin Phoenix in Joker wasn’t much in evidence when we worked at Wetherspoons and he had special hand signals to alert me to girls with nice arses.

“We went down the pub, and all he wanted to talk about was his affinity for female singer-songwriters and his view that cis men should stop producing music to let other voices shine.

“I asked about Arsenal. He ‘doesn’t really follow them anymore’. I asked if he’d hooked up, and he said I was a foot soldier of the patriarchy. I asked how long this bullshit would last and he muttered under his fringe again. Me and his mum think Easter.”

Fellow friend Jordan Gardner said: “I can’t even bear to see him now. And that’s nothing to do with my coming back after  the first term as a non-binary singer-songwriter into astrology.”

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Why not spend Christmas with Britain's most hated celebrities?

EVER wanted to know what Britain’s most loathsome celebrity tossers do for Christmas? Here the egotistical f**kers reveal how they’ll be celebrating in their unjustly luxurious homes.

Julia Hartley-Brewer, shit-for-brains pundit 

During Die Hard I shall be explaining why climate change is a hoax, using such unimpeachable logic as: ‘If global warming is real, why didn’t the turkey cook itself?’ and ‘Are we expected to believe a scientist has never been wrong about anything? Arrogant four-eyed boffin shits.’

Jeremy Clarkson, car twat

I’m hoping for snow so I can build a ‘snow Meghan’. Then I’m going to smash it with a hammer. Smash, smash, smash! Until the bitch is dead, dead, dead! (Obviously I don’t literally want to smash her skull in with a hammer, I’m just being ‘edgy’ like a dickhead teenager, which is f**king pathetic for a 62-year-old man.)

Dan Wootton, arsehole GB News presenter 

I’ll be having a woke-free Christmas in my creepy loner’s basement. Instead of a fairy on top of the tree, I’ve got Bernard Manning. How d’you like them apples, Black Lives Matter? For Christmas dinner I’ve managed to procure an endangered snow leopard from the dark web. It tastes unbelievably disgusting but stick that up your arse, Extinction Rebellion.

Prince Andrew, sex-trafficker’s friend

I’ll be having a whole roast goose to myself. If it’s not perfectly moist with crispy skin I shall beat the servant senseless with the flat of a sword once belonging to King John. I’m not invited to Together At Christmas, the royal carol service hosted by that ghastly commoner Kate, and all because I didn’t have sex with a woman I had to pay millions to shut up because obviously a court can’t rule that someone is lying.

Richard Madeley, reactionary GMB presenter

I’m the voice of the ordinary little person, standing up on their behalf to union Nazis. This Christmas I’ll be continuing my tradition of telling jokes, such as ‘How many Mick Lynches does it take to change a lightbulb? None – they’re all on strike!’ and Judy will undoubtedly make her usual quip ‘Shut up Richard, you’re embarrassing everyone’. Don’t worry Judy – plenty more where that came from!

Sarah Vine, Daily Mail hater of everything

I hate Christmas. I hate the vacuous celebrity culture of crispy roast potatoes, just lying there expecting to be admired while some of us just get on with our jobs, thank you very much. And you won’t find my family going to the panto. Our children get enough transgender indoctrination from Marxist teachers without a pretty young woman being forced to dress as a man in Dick Whittington. It’s only a matter of time before we’re teaching them it’s ‘right on’ to have sex with cats.