How to choose your workplace nemesis

HAVING a sworn enemy to detest and undermine certainly makes slow days at work go faster. But who should you choose as your arch-enemy and target of your undeserved rage?

Your line manager

Just because they have the power to decide when you go on holiday, whether you’re working hard enough and if your regular two-day post-party illnesses deserve, they think they’re better than you. Of course you hate them.

Whoever currently has a cold

Either they’re a selfish bastard for coming in, annoying everyone with their sniffs, coughs and nose-blowing and passing on their germs, or they’re a selfish bastard because they’ve had three days off for nothing but a bloody cold. Either way, strike now while they’re weak.

The newest member of staff

An easy target but likely to be eminently hateable simply because they have no clue. Make a new folder on their desktop called ‘Clown Porn HARDCORE’ every time they go to the loo and watch them have a nervous breakdown.

The loud chewer

If you are sensitive to the sound of another human slowly, wetly masticating food, they will be your office nemesis until the day you snap and punch that Pret free-range egg mayo sandwich out of their filthy mouth and get fired.

The one who stays late every day

This nauseating little prick makes you look bad by staying late, arriving early and actually appearing to like their job. But don’t worry, everyone else hates them too, even the boss.

Sign up now to get
The Daily Mash
free Headlines email – every weekday

Shirtless Spaniards take over Scarborough

HORDES of drunk, obnoxious Spanish tourists have arrived in Scarborough to enjoy the sunshine and take no interest in any other aspect of Britain. 

The tourists, who speak no English and order tapas by calling every waiter Gary, have been lured here from Alicante by England’s balmy climate and relaxed pace of life.

Delivery driver Wayne Hayes said: “I know they’ve only come for the sun, but would it kill them to take an interest in our proud, ancient culture?

“Instead all day they lie on the beach in their Speedos reading El Pais, picking at olives and manchego cheese before launching into offensive chants about Lionel Messi.

“Then they barge into our fish ’n’ chip shops, smashed on all-day Rioja, demanding pulpo a la gallega with a well-chilled Fino sherry, not even bothering to read what’s actually on the menu.

“Mind you, the businesses are happy to see them. Half the seafront’s turned into all-night paella bars called Picasso, and the flamenco from Don Quixote’s nightclub goes on all night.”

Tourist Juan Fernandez said: “Me and the wife are thinking of buying here and decking the house out with a massive Spanish flag. Why would we ever want to return to our grey existence in Granada?”