Lee Anderson MP's guide to being a bigoted pub bore

EVERY grim pub has a weird bloke sitting on his own who turns out to have incredibly dodgy opinions. Here Lee Anderson MP gives his tips on being that guy you regret talking to.

Establish your territory

Sit at the same seat, ideally at the bar, and order the same pint of best (lager is a woman’s drink) with monotonous regularity. Monotonous, that’s you, as people subjected to your views on ‘snowflakes’, ‘transgenders’ and ULEZ will soon discover to their cost.

Act like you know it all (because you do)

Don’t let being none too bright and having no greater life experience than anyone else stop you being an expert on everything. The true pub bore is supremely knowledgeable about topics ranging from Viet Cong tactics to looking after tropical fish. The fact that you are wrong, and you’d kill the fish by feeding them carrots, isn’t a problem because you’re too f**king thick to realise.

Sound like a National Front leaflet

‘If they don’t like barges then they can f**k off back to France’ is the level of debate I’d like to see in the House of Commons every day (we’re getting there). The trick is to stop just short of actual racism. This way you can troll liberals without getting barred, sacked or prosecuted. Outwardly you are just an attention-seeking gobshite, but underneath you have the guile of that most cunning of animals, the wasp. 

Learn how to snare your victims

I like to mutter ‘Evening’ to unsuspecting drinkers. Encouraged by this bait they’ll come out with some chit-chat like ‘So much for summer!’. You’ve now established a conversational bridgehead and you can start opining about Sharia law – or another of your six or so tedious obsessions – and watch them squirm as they try to escape before you get to the really offensive bit.

Keep it fresh

Despite what I just said, there’s more to life than immigrants. I like to spice up the conversation by throwing in a topic you’d never expect in a million years from someone like me, such as bringing back the death penalty. Or address a contemporary issue thrown up by our fast-changing modern world, eg. ‘Should women have jobs?’

Bring up your working-classness frequently

Everyone loves listening to someone with a chip on their shoulder. Drippy middle-class Guardian readers have to listen to your working-classness out of guilt, and other working-class people need reminding that their working-classness is less authentic than yours. It seems like only yesterday I were down t’pit, learning the meaning of hard graft and fighting off Balrogs with my good mate Gimli. Or did I imagine that? It’s hard to tell when your head’s full of shit.

Enjoy banter with the ladies

There’s nowt wrong with a bit of harmless flirtation now that women are allowed in pubs. I used to be quite the ladies’ man, so if a bit of skirt is waiting to be served I’ll say: ‘You remind me of my daughter. ‘Course, I wouldn’t let her go out dressed like that.’ It’s just a shame that standards have dropped these days and too many young women use bad language like ‘Are you that f**king twat Lee Anderton?’ and ‘Your TV show’s f**king shit, by the way’.

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The new supermarket layout, and other things that ruin your ageing parents' lives

IT’S not easy being old and no longer having work as your main source of annoyance. Here are six mundane occurrences that your parents have decided to get pissed off about instead.

Changing bin collections

They’ve had a letter from the council and they’re bloody fuming. Whether this rude missive demands different boxes or different days, it’s a catastrophic announcement that thrusts them into a chaotic world of panic and disorder. So you have to come over at 6am next Thursday morning to ask the bin men what the flipping heck they think they’re playing at.

The new supermarket layout

They have moved the Weetabix and replaced it it dog food. What if dad gets confused and ends up eating Winalot for breakfast? His eyesight isn’t what it used to be, you know. Outrageous behaviour. You need to email John James Sainsbury about it immediately. Of course he’s not dead.

Construction works

Despite your Dad’s alleged eye problems, he can spy heras fencing being erected from half a mile away. Whether it’s for road works, fibre installation or – heaven forbid – new houses, the potential of change in their area strikes fear into their ageing hearts. Your mum threatens to chain herself to a digger, before deciding that it’s a bit nippy, actually.

Whats-his-face off the telly

They don’t have to watch the show he is in, but they still do, just so they can endlessly bang on about how much they loathe him. They also detest that woman who does the news on ITV, that bloke who wears loud ties on that gameshow, and the annoying child who’s in that advert that’s always bloody on. Sometimes they Facetime while watching to tell you.

Being forced to pay by card

According to them, nothing beats counting out filthy bits of paper and metal and thrusting them ungraciously into other people’s hands. Why use a simpler and more convenient method? Well, it turns out your Dad has spent too much time watching GB News and developed some very strong opinions about the WEF stealing his bank account. So can you pop to the bank and withdraw £7000 in cash that he will keep in the biscuit tin, as it’s much safer? Good lad.