Things you think are posh, but aren't at all

SOME people think Ferrero Rocher are posh, but they’re the sort of scum who shop in Tesco. Here are some other things that are supposed to be posh, but aren’t.

After Eight mints

Back in the 80s, no self-respecting middle class dinner party was complete without a box of After Eights. That’s assuming you fell for the TV adverts showing posh people shoving them down their gobs at fancy parties and embassy receptions. In reality this was about as likely as a waiter saying, ‘More cheese strings and Vimto, ambassador?’

Hunting

Posh people spend their days hunting animals and killing them, but then so do Rentokil blokes. Sadly hunting isn’t that different in principle to super-common bloodsports like hare coursing and dog fighting, although maybe they’d get a PR boost if everyone wore jodhpurs and sipped sherry while two pitbulls try to eat each other.

Posh Spice

She was indeed posh – compared to Mels B and C. She looked posh – but the illusion was shattered when she opened her mouth. This didn’t happen too often because the rest of the band did the heavy lifting on the singing front, preferring to keep Posh’s pop talents confined to striding around the stage self-importantly.

Plug-in air fresheners

Sandalwood and jasmine sound posh, and so does vanilla blossom. But don’t be fooled. Plug-in air fresheners are strictly for the aspirational working class. Although given the rising cost of electricity, poshos with vast inherited wealth might soon be the only ones who can afford to run them, like having a Savile Row tailor or owning a horse.

Pre-grated cheese

It’s such a luxury, only well-heeled people must eat pre-grated cheese, right? No. It’s actually for lazy and drunk people, and the upper classes don’t eat cheese on toast at 1am after coming in from a pub crawl that ended with Jagerbombs and pissing in a bin in Croydon town centre. 

A dishwasher

Dishwashers are for the middle classes. The only kind of dishwasher you’ll find in a genuinely posh house is one from Italy or Portugal and called Sofia or Beatriz, who gets paid minimum wage and has to sleep in the attic before getting up at 6am to prepare breakfast for the whole family.

Jacob Rees-Mogg

‘Jacob’ only pretends to be an aristocrat and it’s all an act. He was actually born the seventh of nine feral children in a terraced council house with a broken fridge in the front garden. He made his fortune in the scrap metal trade, not hedge funds, and lives in fear of people finding out his real name is Jay Tyson Boggs.

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It's all covered in dog piss, and other reasons why foraging is a terrible idea

THINK you’re going to make some lovely, organic pesto from that wild garlic you foraged? You won’t, because it will have the added ingredient of dog urine. Here are some other reasons:

You don’t know what you’re doing

You got a trug basket and a book about foraging for Christmas, which you think makes you a cross between Nigella Lawson and Bear Grylls. Unfortunately, the pictures in the book are shit, you can’t tell the difference between plants and you end up with agonising stomach ache after eating dandelion soup, which was horrible anyway.

It takes f**king ages

You imagine that the natural abundance of nature will provide you with a delicious feast within minutes of leaving your door. Unfortunately, you are wrong and you’ll find yourself five miles from home on foot having picked six hawthorn flowers and stung your hands on a lot of nettles.

A farmer will go mental at you

Despite its reputation for being bucolic and tranquil, the British countryside is actually jealously guarded by angry fascists with no compunction about bellowing at you to get off their land. It’s probably not wise to argue with a man who sees death as part of nature’s brutal plan and is carrying a f**king shotgun.

It’s all covered in dog piss

Even if you think you’ve walked far enough from the path to pick something a dog won’t have been near, you’re wrong. They piss on everything. And if it’s not the piss of a dog, it’ll be the piss of a fox or a rat or a badger. You cannot escape the piss, and some of those appetising-looking leaves will also have shit on them.

You might kill yourself and your family

No matter how confident you are that the mushrooms you picked are the harmless chestnut types rather than the fatal ‘destroying angels’ species, is it worth the risk? Because you can go to Tesco and buy some for a quid without murdering your family or turning into a tedious wanker who thinks foraging is somehow a cool thing to do.