Tories to raise mildly racist caravan-owning bastard age

THE Tories have pledged to raise the age at which you suddenly turn into a racist caravan owner who is unable to drive faster than 38mph in a 60mph zone.

The government plans to save £13bn a year by slowing the rate at which Britain’s roads become clogged with caravans and motorhomes, increasing economic output by making it possible to journey somewhere without being overcome with rage. 

Accountant Tom Logan said: “So often I’ve overtaken some old bastard towing a caravan at 38mph on a trunk road and thought, ‘he looks blissfully happy’.

“He doesn’t care I’d happily kill him. His only job, after raising my blood pressure, is arriving at a nice campsite where he and his mousey wife will cook sausages, drink wine from a box and laugh a bout how much I hate them. And I want that.”

Julian Cook of York said: “This means I have an extra three years’ wait before I can develop a truly offensive and disgusting sense of entitlement.

“I was really looking forward to hitting 65 and developing spectacularly ill-informed theories about how everything is the fault of migrants. Specifically Muslims, for old times’ sake. 

“I wanted to travel the country, meet interesting people and thrust my wilful ignorance directly into their stupid faces. The dream is shattered. I feel utterly betrayed.”

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My Big Gap Year: Roman Holiday

Dispatches from Poppy Spalding

Monday: Zurich

THIS week finds me in Switzerland, home of chocolatey assault course, Toblerone and, more recently, randy holocaust survivor and film maker, Roman Polanski. I just had to find out for myself what the real story is behind this pickle he’s got himself into. Americans are constantly doing this kind of thing and I reckon the world would be a better place if only they’d stop watching so much Quincy.

During my night of passion with DJ Rico, we discovered that we are both the biggest fans of Roman Polanski in the world. Rico says the establishment are just trying to bring Roman down because, like him, he has eclectic tastes and is an artist. I told him how I totally cried at the end of The Pianist and have all seven series of Scrubs on DVD.

It may be true that, as an older man, Roman was being a paedophile with that underager. But I must admit that when I was 15 I had this weird crush on Dale Winton and dreamed every day he would burst into my Geography class and go “Hey, Poppy, let’s head back to my luxury mansion for some sex”. Sadly, it never happened: Dale married the woman off the milk adverts and then my Uncle Steve said he was a ‘bender’. Either way it seemed increasingly unlikely that Dale was ever going to come down my school.

So I got the name of the jail that Roman was staying in off Sky News and hopped into a taxi, which promptly took me to a menacing looking building in the middle of nowhere. Just inside, I reasoned I must be in the Jihadi wing as there were lots of shifty looking Arabs hanging about. However, as I strolled around I realised that there were too many tractors and not enough security doors for it to be a jail and began to suspect my German accent had been lost on the cab driver. The Arabs seemed to be buying the tractors with large handfuls of cash and I knew for sure I was in the wrong place when they then walked freely out the door. I asked the cashier if Roman Polanski was about and she told me this was a farming centre and Roman had no reason to come in at the moment.

In short, Switzerland is a really confusing place where film directors can be jailed even if they’ve won awards and Arabs can just go around with suitcases full of currency and purchase agricultural items. I guess at the end of the day, the Swiss are just doing what they think is right. But that doesn’t excuse the fact that they’re also being total spoil sports. I often live by the motto “No one likes a Grass” and Switzerland are going to find themselves pretty isolated in Europe if they don’t chill out a little and start being more friendly.