Racists stay here rather than f**king off to Spain: The ongoing costs of Brexit

WITH each passing week, Brits are waking up to the folly of leaving the EU. Here are some of the problems no one expected, especially daft Brexiters, of course.

Bananas are now way too bendy

One of the reasons we were exhorted to leave the EU is because Brussels was insisting on categorising bananas at the request of banana sellers and supermarkets. And no word of bullshit there. Now that we are out, bananas have gone all out of whack, some looking like bent penises requiring surgery while others are completely pretzel-shaped and impossible to peel. However the colour remains slightly green one day and black the next, as is traditional.

A Europe-wide rise in ‘thick English’ jokes

The English used to chortle away merrily at the imbecility of foreigners like the Irish and dimwit Spaniards such as Fawlty Towers’ Manuel. Today it is the English who are the butt of those jokes. In the Republic of Ireland it is common to joke about the Englishman who was so stupid he chose to vote to leave the world’s largest single market only for his business to go bust. It’s the way they tell them.

A rise in buskers now that musicians’ livelihoods have collapsed

Bands and artists who used to travel abroad frequently to play can no longer do so owing to huge bureaucratic costs. They now have to eke a living playing Wonderwall over and over outside railway stations. The result? Vastly reduced quality of life for millions of Britons.

Racists stay here rather than f**king off to Spain

Time was when people who loathed immigration to the UK took the principled stance of moving to Spain where they could fail to assimilate, drink cheap booze and not bother to learn any Spanish. Since they voted Leave, not realising they would have to leave their Spanish homes themselves, they’re back here, spouting contradictory garbage about how Britain is simultaneously the best country in the world and how it’s irrevocably gone to the dogs thanks to foreigners, avocados and the Notting Hill Carnival.

The rest of us can’t f**k off to Spain

Oh, we’d love to. But the elderly gammon idiot Brexiters made their bed and we have to lie in it with them. The bed smells weird and it’s full of digestive crumbs, metaphorically speaking.

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Why 26 is the ideal age to lose your virginity, by a concerned mum

IT’S best not to have sex until you’ve graduated, got a job and bought a house, explains mum Helen Archer, who only has daughter Emily’s best interests in mind, obviously.

Teenage pregnancy

Nature tells us we should be getting down to it while we’re young – and that’s an urge we must fight tooth and nail. Most, if not all, sexual intercourse between teenagers ends in a surprise baby, who I’ll end up raising when I should be enjoying my retirement. So I’d recommend waiting a little bit. A decade is about right.


Young people are riddled with debilitating diseases like chlamydia, and are too busy vaping to go and get tested. It’s best to wait to try the ‘sex thing’ until after you’ve got a good job. You know, one that has Bupa. Doctors and lawyers probably have that. But not people with drama degrees. Just saying.

Your first sexual experiences are rubbish

Why lose your precious virginity to some fumbling teenager in the back of a Fiat Punto, when you could lose it to a man with a steady job, in a lovely house that’s located fairly near here so I can see my grandchildren but not so close you’re popping round every day and being a nuisance? 

You don’t want to get a reputation

If you’re seen as being too willing to ‘put out’, no one is going to marry you and take you on nice holidays. And before you give me the ‘side-eye’, this definitely applies to boys as well as girls – and probably non-binaries, too. Whatever their gender definition or sexuality, they all end up lonely spinsters. I’m as liberal as the next parent, but do remember that sex means a miserable and lonely death, possibly suicide.

It makes me feel weird

The idea of the precious, wondrous child I nurtured from birth getting their back blown out by a spotty 16-year-old called Callum disgusts me beyond words. Do it if you must – but know you’re sending your one and only loving mother to an early grave.