How to blame a teacher for your child being a horrible little shit

HAVE you inadvertently brought your child up to be a total nightmare? Here’s how to absolve yourself from blame by saying it’s all the fault of their teacher.

Call them lazy

Teachers have been lolling around at home doing f**k all for the best part of the year, which is why little Dexter still can’t do sums. It’s got nothing to do with you interrupting the online lessons every five minutes to say: ‘What’s the point? We’ve got calculators these days.’

Pretend your kid’s home life is perfect

People with horrible kids conveniently forget that they spent the first four years of their lives at home. Accept no blame and fondly imagine your child’s early years were like something out of The Famous Five while you’re slagging off their teacher at the school gates.

Conveniently forget about all that key worker stuff 

At the beginning of the pandemic you said your kid’s teacher was a hero. Completely forget about these respectful sentiments and go back to regarding teachers as free childcare. You probably only did ‘clap for carers’ to feel good about yourself too.

Moan about a lack of discipline

Can’t be arsed to teach your child that hitting people with wooden blocks is wrong? Don’t worry, their teacher will do it for you. And if they don’t, get angry that they are incapable of discipline and turn up at the school to threaten the headteacher. Not mental at all.

Say they’re all ‘woke’

There’s a certain type of weirdo who thinks teachers are woke Marxists brainwashing their children instead of teaching them how to spell. When your child has a meltdown in Tesco it must be because their nice young teacher Miss Fielding indoctrinated them with violent anti-capitalist tendencies.

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Why I should be the centre of attention at a funeral, by Prince Andrew

ONLY a self-centred idiot would make a funeral all about them. Here Prince Andrew explains why he should be the centre of attention as the nation mourns.

You might be wondering why a disgraced royal who’s been suspended from public duties such as myself has started popping up on TV again, but let me reassure you there’s a perfectly logical and cynical explanation.

Let’s address the elephant in the room shall we? I couldn’t be promoted to Admiral for my 60th birthday, and it still stings. If I kick up enough of a fuss about it and demand to wear my military uniform to my dad’s funeral, there’s a slim chance I might finally achieve that distinguished rank.

They don’t hand out the largely meaningless title and its marginally different jacket to just anyone either, let me tell you. When you’re royal it’s your right to be an admiral. You’d think you’d need to be good at commanding fleets of warships, but sorry, it doesn’t work like that.

Why else would I dig in my heels about wearing fancy clobber? It’s certainly got nothing to do with salvaging my reputation after that Jeffrey Epstein business, and frankly it’s disrespectful to even bring that up at this sensitive time.

You’d think if I had any sense I’d just keep a low profile and let Harry and Meghan become the new royals everyone loves to hate. But you forget I once concocted a bullshit alibi based around Woking Pizza Express and claimed I didn’t sweat, so clearly I have nothing going on between my ears.