Agony Aunt: “Boyfriend listens to TECHNO music for sleep!” 📻

When one is about to go to sleep, one may choose to listen to relaxing noises such as whale song, rainfall, birds chirping, working class geezers belching, and TECHNO, TECHNO, TECHNO.

As there’s no limit. There’s no limit, we’ll reach for the sky, no valley too deep, no mountain too high. No, no limits etc. Unless of course you’re like today’s human female, who can’t fall asleep due to her human male husband’s noise related sleeping process.

Techno Music as a Sleep Assistant

Dear agony aunt,

I have not slept properly since November 2025. My husband… sorry, boyfriend, we’re not married… my boyfriend got a ghetto blaster for his birthday from his mates. Him and his mates have got into this trend called Techno Sleeping where they go to bed and fall asleep to the pelting sounds of techno music blasting at full volume. My boyfriend has dedicated his bedtime routine to this for six months now. Here’s the problem:

• He does not get any sleep
• I do not get any sleep
• Our neighbours do not get any sleep
• The local council has just issued us with a £5,000 fine for repeated noise disturbances

My boyfriend? He’s so dedicated to this Techno Sleeping thing and blasting out 2 Unlimited’s 1993 techno hit No Limit. He’s worried his mates think he’s “not cool” if he stops. So it’s No Limit on repeat all night from 10pm until 7am and I’m genuinely amazed I haven’t smashed his brains in with a sledgehammer or something.

And I even bought a sledgehammer for that exact purpose! I just also realised it’s murder and all that, so stopped myself. But one more night of this… ONE MORE NIGHT OF NO NO, NO NO NO NO, NO NO THERE’S NO LIMIT. There is a limit FFS and I’m one step away from it!

The submission abruptly ended there, but the women contacted us again this morning with the below update.

Well I went and did it. I got the sledgehammer. In a rage. In a sleep deprivation rage! While I was screaming like that bit in The Exorcist when her head twists around. Then I did it! I went and SMASHED his goddamn ghetto blaster! I smashed the fucker to smithereens in a rage, dragged the debris outside into the street, and BURNED the debris into the ground!!!!!!!

My boyfriend has since entered a state of shock and is now in what’s called a “fugue” dissociative state. His hair has turned white and he then entered a coma. Doctors at the hospital told me it’s acute, horrific trauma caused by me destroying his ghetto blaster in a rage.

If he cops it, they’ve told me I’ll get a manslaughter charge.

Struggling with insomnia, I remembered that bit from the Naked Gun reboot with Liam Neeson and said, “Man’s laughter?! Must have been quite the joke!” The police officers did not appreciate that joke. They all gave me stony stares and my flat is now under 24/7 surveillance to ensure I don’t destroy any other ghetto blasters.

Advice?

Thanks, Abbie

Hi there, Abbie! Well, that’s quite the pickle you’re in there. We can’t say we’ve had to deal with any specific situations like this before, you’re a true one off.

However, our learned agony aunt genius (we’re winners of Worst Agony of the Year Award in 2016, 2017, 2019, 2022, 2023, and a projected win for 2029) tells us the obvious answer. And it is this…

Don’t destroy anymore ghetto blasters.

That should do the trick, love! Unless you get his with a manslaughter charge. Maybe then you could try that Naked Gun joke on a judge and hope he has a better sense of humour than those coppers. 👍

#AgonyAunt #Boyfriend #dating #Humor #Lifestyle #relationshipAdvice #Romance #romantic #Satire #satirical #Sleep #sleepAssistant #techno

Bleach Read: Great Romance Novels That Never Were 🧼

Beach Read is a 2020 romance novel by Emily Henry. It is popular. But did you know the romance novel Bleach Read (2024) by romantic novelist Richard Dickhead is also really romantic? It truly is!

Although the central narrative arc is, indeed, about bleach, there’s much more going on here as well. In fact, AI Book Critic 2.0 hailed the work as, “The greatest romance book about Bleach Read since Beach Read!” Although, please note, Beach Read isn’t about bleach at all and the AI book critic made an error there.

Falling in Love With Powerful Chemical Products in Bleach Read

“And that was the moment I realised: when the world felt dark and scary, bleach could whisk you off to go dancing; bleach could take some of the pain away; bleach could melt holes in your fear. I decided then that my life would be full of bleach.”

You may have heard of AI boyfriends and girlfriends, and the endless joys of that existence, but what if a woman falls in love with a dilute solution of sodium hypochlorite and/or hydrogen peroxide?

That’s addressed on page 1, chapter 1, of book 1 of this intended multi-series romance franchise.

“I must admit, I’d never found hydrogen peroxide to be attractive before. It seemed more like something you’d tip down the drain to take the stink off a night of drunken vomiting after one-too-many Proseccos. But now… I looked at that big tub of bleach on the supermarket shelf and I found myself thinking, ‘That is my future husband… we shall have bleach babies and they’ll be immune to the world around them.’ Rather than have myself committed, I swooned and bought the tub of bleach.”

What follows is a romance like few other romances have ever romanced. The love for a woman and a tub of plastic filled with chemical grade bleach knows no bounds.

Across 500 pages (some of which appear to be AI generated, but that’s to be expected if the author is an AI chatbot), AI Book Critic 2.0 rants, raves, and does AI hallucinations. Famously, in chapter 179 it forgets the book is a romance novel and lists out verbatim an entire chapter from Moby-Duck.

The following chapter also, mysteriously, mentions the tennis player Boris Becker a total of 3,455 times.

The novel then returns its focus on romance, with the work concluding that a woman can’t love a tub of bleach as it results in all sorts of unpleasant burns, irritations, and toxic fumes.

It’s a very moving work! We cried 117 times whilst reading its fascinating generated prose. But that may have something to do with us owning…

The Bleach Special Edition Hardcover

Each printed copy of the work was dipped in bleach and sold to the public as the Bleach Special Edition (hardcover). Many readers reported, over extended reading sessions, various health problems. Including, but not limited to:

• Skin peeling off their fingers and hands
• Fits of hysterics and uncontrolled emotional breakdowns (crying etc.)
• Chemical inhalation leading to crazed hallucinations of angry geese, pink elephants, and nude Jon Bon Jovi concerts
• Delirium
• Gagging sensations
• Coma (and general lack of responsiveness)

AI Book Critic 2.0 was quick to highlight on its social media platforms these health problems had nothing to do with the quality of its novel. It stated on 23rd January 2025:

“These angry geese who are reading my novel Bleach Read shouldn’t be reading books at all. They’re angry geese, not human beings. End statement.”

It’s believed AI Book Critic 2.0 suffered an AI hallucination there. The chatbot has never addressed the matter since and continues to produce fiction, whilst supplementing its wage with book reviews as a side-hustle.

#BeachRead #bleach #Books #Humor #Lifestyle #Reading #Romance #romanceNovels #romantic #Satire #satirical #Silly

Space Warlord Baby Trading Simulator: SELL, SELL, SELL! 👼

With a title like that, you know this game will have something about it. The sequel (of sorts) to the brilliantly named Space Warlord Organ Trading Simulator (2021) by indie dev Strange Scaffold is here!

Space Warlord Baby Trading Simulator launched in January 2026 and is a positively nuts experience. In a cosmos of space babies, it’s up to you to buy low, sell high, and manage the baby stock market. Huzzah?

The Cosmic World of PROFITS in Space Warlord Baby Trading Simulator

The game is very darkly satirical and doesn’t hold back on the black humour. We’re surprised it hasn’t caused chaos in the religious community tbh. Look at this game intro screen text:

“In this game, you will follow readouts of the simulated futures of alien babies and ‘watch’ as they commit war crimes, get addicted to recreational drugs, become cannibals, find love, acquire corporations, get used for medical experiments, become intergalactic stars, get hunted by the rich for sport, blow up toxic sludge pipelines, commit suicide, win the lottery, and many, many other things in-between.

You will buy, sell, and short stocks based off of these events. You will likely become very angry at least once when a baby who you are financially incentivised to watch crash and burn pulls their life together.

And that’s okay.”

From there you discover it’s the distant future and war has been eradicated, which is really bad news for rich people. To make up for that, the trading market opens for space babies.

It’s all very much in the style of the cult classic Gazillionaire (1994) that was good fun back in the day.

Excerpt here you pick a baby and the game then follows the course of its life. You’re supposed to buy stocks during key life events, aiming to buy low and then sell high when the baby is doing well in life.

This is how it all plays out, in frantic fashion with lashings of satircal humour.

Our first space baby had quite the life, living for 112 years before being destroyed by orbital acid. Along the way, this space baby learned to play banjo (raising stocks), only to be scuppered by a sickle accident (lowering stocks). Other crises included getting blackout truck and being assaulted at a protest.

All-in-all, we made a handsome small profit off our first trading run, but weren’t aggressive enough in buying.

Anyway, it’s fair to say Space Warlord Baby Trading Simulator is nuts. In a good way! It’s ideal for pick-up-and-play style bursts of frantic escapism. Importantly, it does get addictive and hooks you in. Players will rejoice in getting on a running loop of stock market antics and observing the lives of space babies taking their various twists and turns.

The more money you earn, the more you can advance your reputation. Plus, indie dev Strange Scaffold clearly knows their stuff about investing and trading as the game is rooted effectively in realistic stock market stuff.

However, the game can be a bit repetitive. It’s not something you’ll sit there playing for four hours a night, we think it’s more intended for short bursts.

That it does very well. Plus, the humour works a treat.

#Capitalism #Entertainment #Fun #gaming #IndieGames #Lifestyle #satirical #Space #SpaceWarlordBabyTradingSimulator #stockMarket #stockMarketSimulator #StrangeScaffold

Crime and Pun-ishment: Great Pun Books That Never Were 🪓

Crime and Punishment (1866) is a famous book by Fyodor Dostoevsky. But did you know a spin-off work called Crime and Pun-ishment is a pun-based work with many, many bad dad jokes?

It’s a FANTASTIC book. One of the best ever! So superb, in fact, those whom read it are often rendered incontinent and forced into a medically induced coma for their survival. Such is the hilarity of this tome! So, safety warning aside let’s dive on in for some axe-based wordplay.

Crime and Pun-ishment: The Tale of Raskol-n-joke-ov

“Your worst sin is you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for napkins.”

This work was published in January 2026 by author and literary critic AI Book Critic 2.0. All funds are absorbed by the AI bot and disseminated towards funding further AI data centres.

It’s a non-traditional pun book in the sense it doesn’t focus solely on a list of endless wordplay. Instead, it manipulates the story of Crime and Punishment it a series of terrible dad jokes. The plot follows the original story, with Rodion Raskol-n-joke-ov committing a logical fall-axe-y of committing a pun-based murder.

“I have an axe to grind with you!”

Is what he quips, Arnold Schwarzenegger style, before whipping out an axe and chopping with wild exuberance (all whilst quipping more dreadful puns).

Unfortunately (or, perhaps, fortunately) for this Raskol-n-joke-ov, the big joke is he’s forgotten to bring an axe! Whilst laughing hysterically about this incompetence, he then remembers he has a bazooka in his backpack. Whipping this end, he fires it off and blows up a house.

As so many people saw him do this, it isn’t long before he’s caught and put on trial.

During which, he begins a long and slow process of wrestling with his psychological demons over the murder/detonation. In a diary entry, he quips:

“My conscience is Russian towards a breakdown…”

Before he rounds on himself and agrees he was in the right:

“I eliminated that building with a HEAT round (High-Explosive Anti-Tenant), thus I did the world a favour! I am a Napoleon! Now… a Blast-poleon!“

In court, he is then quizzed by the magistrate Porfiry Petrovich about the matter. There’s some scintillating dialogue during this 100 page, heavy conversation chapter:

Porfiry: “You know, Rodion Raskol-n-joke-ov, it’s a funny thing about crime. It’s like a rocket. It has a high initial velocity, a lot of fire and fury, but eventually… it has to land. And usually, it lands right in my office.”

Raskol-n-joke-ov: “I don’t know what you’re AIMING at inspector…”

Porfiry: “I found a specific type of soot on your coat, sir! It’s backblast residue. It seems you did not check your rear-clear before firing that bazooka into the abyss, Rodion Raskol-n-joke-ov…”

Raskol-n-joke-ov: “You’re triggering me, Porfiry! You have no proof!! You’re just SHELLING me with accusations!!!”

Porfiry: “Come now, don’t have an explosive temper. I’m just waiting for you to find your own re-coil.”

Due to the relentless nature of the puns, many literary critics found the work tedious going. However, AI Book Critic 2.0 has hailed its work as a clear masterpiece and claims it’ll win Book of the Year 2026, 2027, and 2031. Best of luck to it!

The Response From the International Bazooka Organisation

The International Bazooka Organisation (IBO) reacted negatively to the work, highlighting that bazookas didn’t exist during the narrative’s timeline.

Bazookas were invented in May 1942, whereas the book is set in the mid-1860s. We contact Book Critic 2.0 for comment, but it had unplugged itself for the day to recharge.

#Books #CrimeAndPunishment #Dostoevsky #FyodorDostoevsky #Humor #Lifestyle #Literature #punning #puns #Reading #Satire #satirical #Silly #Writing

Prison Cell to Let: The Ultimate in Brutalist Micro-Suites 🚓

Real Estate Bastard Enterprises Ltd. is utterly shit your pants delighted to announce our latest property on the market. Located in Preston city centre in an active prison, this gated community prison cell to rent is a delight from top to bottom.

Live out your Shawshank Redemption fantasies at competitive monthly rates, with a “lively” community of convicts right on your doorstep. Book your viewing today! This prison cell won’t be on the market for long.

The Slab & Iron Suite: Luxury Prison Cell Living Done Right

• Only £2,800 p/m
• NO BILLS INCLUDED
• NO PETS
• Full-service meal plan funded by public taxes
• Open-concept bathing for nudist enthusiasts
• Industrial floor-to-ceiling iron accents for in-cell security
• Biometric security from 24/7 on-site guards
• Curated social network of convicted criminals

The lease for this property is available immediately, but includes a No-Early Termination clause. This clause is strictly enforced by the state and is non-negotiable until the tenant has served a 5-10 year sentence.

Tenants concerned about the lack of privacy should remember we live in a society dominated by CCTV security recordings and 24/7 rolling social media feeds. Thus… what even truly is privacy in this day and age? Think about it.

With a cost-effective rent of a mere £2,8000 p/m remember this is all-inclusive of uniforms and orange couture provided by the state. You will also have a solitary bed to yourself, a sink, and a “shitter” (as the inmates call them) for your personal ablution needs.

For leisure activities and exercise, tenants are welcome to a one-hour daily window using The Yard. This is a 15ft by 15ft concrete exercise area with an armed guard watching over your every move.

As for commuting to your daily job, you’re allowed to do this but must be strip searched on leaving/entering the property to ensure you don’t have:

• Drugs
• Weapons
• Bubble gum

If you’re found, in particular, to have any brand of bubble gum this’ll be taken out back and detonated with Semtex.

Please note, you must also wear your prisoner uniform in and around your day/job to confirm your status as a prisoner/tenant. This does mean some police officers out on the police may mistake you for an escaped convict and taser you to the ground while your scream like a big girl.

Former Tenant Testimonial

“I’m Derek and I moved into Cell 402 in May 2022. During my wonderful stay in this prison cell I made many friends, was stabbed 25 times in 24 months by inmates, and was even headbutted by a guard! Other than that, there are few distractions other than a window, plus free Wi-Fi access that’s restricted to 30 minutes a day for ‘educational time’ and I wasn’t allowed to access pornography, which made me heavily repressed and a little weird tbh. Oh yeah, I had to move out of the property in April 2026 because I headbutted a guard and will now be serving a six-month prison sentence in Cell 502 one floor up. We’ll be neighbours!” Prisoner 839201, former Brand Manager for Violent Vaping Enterprises Ltd.

#Business #Capitalism #estateAgents #Home #Humor #renting #Satire #satirical #Silly #tenant

Exclusive Santa Column: SANTA WOKEN FROM HIBERNATION ERROR! 🚨🚨🚨

Following a horrific error at the Santa Claus factory, Father Christmas has been woken EARLY ahead of Christmas 2026. For it is definitely not December 2026! It’s April. Santa is not best pleased with this development…

WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!?

THE ALARMS STARTED WAILING AT 4AM. WAILING. THEY WERE VERY BLOODY LOUD. SANTA WAS ROUSED FROM A MOST DELIGHTFUL HIBERNATION SLUMBER, DROOLING OVER MYSELF, AND MY BELLOWING OF RAGE BEGAN:

“MARKUSS!!!! [Editor: Markus is Santa Claus’ Head Elf] WHAT THE BLOODY HELLLL!?!?!”

The wailing wailed, Santa bellowed, and to top it off Santa had the most bastard SOB hangover imaginable.

It Is Not Christmas

With the entire factory, elf staff, rats, and Kenneth the Gaffer Walrus woken up, Santa gathered my managers into the office quarters. I slugged from a bottle of tequila and spooned Marmite from a jar into my Santa face.

“Markus…” I wheezed, “It is not Christmas…”

“No, sir…” Markus squeaked.

“WHY IS IT NOT CHRISTMAS, MARKUS!?!?” I roared.

“Erm… er… because it is May, sir?”

“THAT IS CORRECT, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!!!! WHY IS IT MAY?!?”

Markus stood there looking baffled, his stupid elf hair all tussled, and he was not wearing his mandatory elf hat!

“ANSWER ME MARKUS! And get your ELF HAT on, you’re violating the Santa Factory dress code, you insubordinate swine!”

Markus ran off to get his elf hat and returned wheezing heavily.

“ANSWER ME!”

“Sir… *wheeze, wheeze*…”

Well, Santa bellowed for some time after that and went very red in the face. By 10am I was too drunk to do anything about it, so slept it off till 3pm and drank a pink of energy drinks, then a pint of coffee, and then started hitting the Lambrini bottle stash.

That was to deal with the ordeal that had come about because of Santa’s investment into the Sleigh-Dar 5000 AI technology, automated software triggered by technical error as a false-positive Christmas siren.

Santa invested $135 million in that! And it’d gone off in May…

That is not the Return on Investment (ROI) Santa had expected. To deal with the disappointment, I quit the Lambrini and went straight for the gin.

Santa Leaks the 2026 Naughty List

In a drunken frenzy, I went and accidentally leaked the 2026 Naughty List (as of Q2) to a decentralised blockchain, then all across the official Father Christmas social media accounts. The posts were laden with extreme obscenities and typos (I was drunk, it happens).

This triggered off a chain reaction of online and international press mayhem, with the tabloid The Daily Disaster ringing me for an exclusive interview. This I did, apparently, as I read the interview the next day. Santa just can’t remember saying any of that crap, so I may sue them for slander and defamation for the hell of it.

The bigger problem was some of the names on the Naughty List. They included:

• Bread Pitt
• Bread Pitt
• Bread Pitt
• Bread Pitt
  • I’d added Bread Pitt multiple times for some reason
• Kylie Minogue
• 1996 Formula 1 World Champion Damon Hill
• The entire cast of Cheers
• Sandra Hüller
• Sandra Bullock
• Anyone else called Sandra

The list triggered international outrage from people called Sandra. I don’t give a damn what their issue is! The list is superb. Genuinely superb. Not a thing wrong with it, apart from the misspelling of Bread Pitt’s name… the spelling issue was probably down to the drunken frenzy.

But, notice, Bread Pitt didn’t complain about it! Nary a whiff of an issue from him as he is A REAL MAN and in CONTROL OF HIS EMOTIONS. Unlike women! Silly things. Oh, and on an unrelated note, Santa destroyed the desk in my office in a foul-tempered rage. I got Markus (my head elf) to order me a new one.

The New Santa Desk (and the cryogenic solution)

Yeah. with all the chaos about the 2026 Naughty List I clocked out once the desk turned up.

The new desk was flown in first class, premium delivery, via helicopter. In customer Santa Factory tradition, the helicopter crashed landed just outside the front gates in a hellish fireball of mayhem. Unlike most occasions, there was a survivor! Lucky SOB!

He staggered in pleading for medical assistance. Unfortunately, Nurse Doreen was awake as well and made him a Pot Noodle and glass of hot cocoa. That really didn’t do much for the survivor’s many open wounds and obvious third-degree burns, so I gave him a shot of brandy, patted him on the back for job well done, and shoved him back out into the snow blizzard wilderness raging outside the factory. He’ll be fine!

With the new desk installed, Santa turned my attention back to what needed resolving. That being… how do we all bloody well get back to sleep!? It isn’t Christmas!

We had a meeting in my office and I DECIDED that cryogenics was the ONLY answer.

“Er… I don’t think that’s wise, sir.” Markus squeaked.

I gave him my haughtiest glare. A glare so goddamn haughty it’d scare the bejeezus out of anyone. Markus shut up and I got Nurse Doreen set on the task of setting up the ice cryogenic units to freeze us deep solid until later in the year. Belching exuberantly, I did also worry if the stupid things were in any way dangerous. What if my big Father Christmas beard got messed up!? I asked Nurse Doreen, framing in a way to look like I wasn’t scared.

“Nurse Doreen, will we all die horribly if we use these cryogenics? I’m shitting myself about this, but don’t tell the others!”

She just gazed into the middle-distance, then at me with this glazed over expression akin to a 1000 yard stare, then back into the middle-distance. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but instead she munched on a powered chunk of Turkish Delight. But then she eyeballed me again.

“Mr. Father Christmas… I do not know. I am not a cryogenics expert.”

“BUT YOU ARE A NURSE, ARE NOT YOU!?” I bellowed.

“Mr. Father Christmas, I am hired as a chef, not a nurse.”

Santa had Markus get her contract of employment and we checked it right there and then in the office while Nurse Doreen waited. DAMN AND BLAST! She was right. I’d been calling her Nurse Doreen all these years! She’s listed as a chef… technically I should be paying her double.

I dropped the matter and we got on with it, prepping the cryogenic units.

Santa must stop here. I’m very drunk. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to make any sense. REST ASSURED! Christmas 2026 will be on target and only if you’re Bread Pitt will you not receive any presents. Bread Pitt and all the Sandras of this world, that is…

#Business #Capitalism #Christmas #Entertainment #FatherChristmas #Fun #Humor #Humour #Lifestyle #Santa #Satire #satirical #Silly

Agony Aunt: “Are keyboard touch typing skills ATTRACTIVE!?” ⌨️

Some human males delude themselves into believing certain actions are attractive. Today’s human male has decided his brilliance on a keyboard should be enough to impress even the most attractive dame.

Amy Adams? Sandra Hüller? Sandra Bullock? Other women called Sandra? All should be dropping before his most attractive typing might. Is this so? Let us explore the typing topic.

Touch Typing is the Secret to Great Romance?

Agony aunt,

I am in agony. I’ve just spend the last 72 hours touch typing my way to the annual Touch Typing Championship 2026. It was the most competitive year I’ve ever taken part in, but I fended off a young upstarter whom tried to STEAL my crown by thrashing him with a touch typing speed of 230 WPM (words per minute) compared to his PATHETIC 215 WPM. What a pathetic boy, he should leave competitions like this to MEN like me.

However, once the event ended and I was crowned the deserving champion I turned and looked around me, rightfully expecting very hot women to begin hurling themselves at me for a date and/or marriage.

But… nothing.

There was one chick there who glanced at me and I glared at her expectantly, but she just wandered off and got a hotdog from a hotdog stand. Try to comprehend that. SHE WANTED TO EAT A HOTDOG INSTEAD OF DATING A TOUCH TYPING CHAMPION. What is the world coming to? That is feminism. This is the wokeness and it’s ruining society.

I can’t possible be wrong. What could possibly be unattractive about someone being able to have this God-given skill that others can only dream of? It shows:

• Tenacity
• Intellectual genius
• Versatility
• Emotional intelligence
• Wit
• Charm
• An enjoyment of keyboards
• Dedication

How can women look me in the eye (me, admittedly not the best looking guy ever, but a touch typing genius) and think this isn’t worthy of their time?

On my Tinder dating profile I lead with it: DEREK, 33, TOUCH TYPING GENIUS

I then list out my many championship victories and link to an article that was written about me, in which I make confident (not arrogant, confident) claims about how superior I am to everyone else. And yet in the last three months I’ve swiped on over 10,000 women and only three have swiped back. One ended up being a guy pretending to be a woman, the other two were scammers thinking I’ve made a tonne of money from my victories. I haven’t. I’ve actually lost money because it’s £100 to enter the competitions. That and the keyboard investments and I’m down about £500 over the last decade due to all of this.

AND NO HOT WOMEN.

Please. Advice needed. Is it my keyboard?! It’s all black, do I need a more feminine one or something to show off my sensitive side?

Yours,

Derek

Hi there, Derek! To help you out, we went out onto the streets of Manchester city centre and randomly began demanding answers from women we encountered: “WHY WON’T YOU DATE, DEREK!?” We roared, “HE’S A TOUCH TYPING WORLD CHAMPION!”

It turns out (from the ones who didn’t run away, at least) they’re more interested in personality traits such as kindness, humour, compassion, intelligence, and an interest in the arts.

None of them were impressed or interested in the typing thing. One of them said it was “weird”*. Sorry about that! Maybe take up a new hobby.

*We have subsequently learned Derek had a stroke after reading that someone found the touch typing thing “weird”. Although he’s since recovered from that, he’s quit his day job and entered a deep, dark depression of marathon touch typing sessions. Derek… for GOD’S SAKE, man. This is not the answer. Take up golf, or something.

#AgonyAunt #dating #datingAdvice #Feminism #Humor #keyboards #masculinity #Satire #satirical #Silly #touchTyping #toxicMasculinity #typing

Linger: The Slow Food Café 🫕 [Sponsored Post]

Are you SICK TO DEATH of fast food culture and the urgency behind that junk?!? Then mosey on down to Slow Food Café, where all our waiters are lazy as all hell and the head chef has a gammy leg!

This ensures every meal delivered to you is slow, protracted, aggravating, and tedious. We’re the antithesis of fast food and we make sure you can sit awkwardly at your dining table, forced into polite chitchat with whomever is with you.

Oh yeah, and we serve beer. It’s £30 a pint and takes 10 minutes to get to you.

Slow Food, Slow Pints, Raging Indignation

“Efficiency is a violent disruption of your ingredients and their, respective, journeys. That is why we don’t do efficiency. We’re incompetent and that’s a GRATE thing. Pun intended.” Jeff McSloth, CEO of Slow Food Café

Think of this way—the longer we make you wait, the longer the food absorbs the very essence of the kitchen and dining area. This atmospheric inculcation imbues your foodstuffs with the likes of:

• Bacteria
• Dust
• The odd fly crawling all over it
• Errant sneezes

Flavour. Flavour! For good things come to those who are overweight. As the longer we make you wait, the more hungry and enraged you’ll get, but ultimately be more delighted when your food arrives.

Linger’s Slow Burner Menu Highlights

This is our menu. Don’t like it? Then don’t eat here then, you ungrateful swine:

• Sloth Salad
• Glacial Water
• Tardy Toast
• Unhurried Onions
• Sluggish Soup of the Day
• Creeping Ice Cream
• Snail-Paced Semolina
• Lagging Lamb Roast
• Dithering Dal
• Protracted Pub Grub

The list goes on. Basically, our menu is shaped by wordplay that’s influenced by foods we can cook in a really, really, really slow way. Toast takes several hours, for example, and the glacial glass of water can take up to a week (it’s delivered to your address long after you’ve left our premises).

The Joys of Artisanal Procrastination

Our waiting staff is trained to avoid eye contact, delay taking your order, and keeping themselves busy folding napkins for many hours (instead of doing real work).

Sticking your hand up, clicking you fingers, and barking “Waiter!” will do sod all here. You will be ignored and if you’ve got a problem with that we’ll just take EVEN LONGER with your order…

After your meal, the bill is also handed to you on hand-calligraphed parchment you’ll need an investigative team to decode. Additionally, the parchment must be allowed to dry for several hours before you see it and decode its mysteries.

Feedback From Our Angry Customers

“Came in for an appetiser and some lunch. Why am I still waiting for my appetiser and lunch!?!!?! Hello!? I’m sitting at the back table on the right I’ve been HERE FOR A MONTH! WTF?! I have a job. I have a family! Where is my goddamn toast started and soup of the day main!?” Andrew McBastard

“By the time the alleged ‘soup of the day’ arrived I’d been sitting so long my legs had seized up with cramps and I was hospitalised with deep vein thrombosis. Demanded my money back. 17 days later, they updated me they WON’T be refunding me. THAT SOUP COST ME FIVE POUNDS! BASTARDS!!!” Harriet McSonofabitch

“I’d been waiting four hours for the Soup of the Day. Eventually I asked the waiter where in the NAME OF GODDAMN HELL the soup was! He pointed at a sundial on the pavement outside the cafe and… and… and I lost my shit. I smashed a fist on the table and shouted ‘THIS IS AN OUTRAGE’ and then I was escorted from the premises.” Jane McBadall

“Stopped in for a black coffee with 17 sugars, 13 squirts of caramel, and 10 squirts of cream. After 12 hours, the order came back with 15 sugars, 11 squirts of caramel, and 11 squirts of cream. Sent it back to get my order fixed. 12 days later it came back with 16 sugars, 12 squirts of caramel, and 113 squirts of cream. The cream was overflowing from the beverage! I said to the waiter, ‘I can’t drink that! I asked for TEN squirts of cream, you stupid bastard!’ To make matters worse, I was fired from my job for absenteeism. LEARN TO GET CUSTOMER ORDERS RIGHT!” Beth McOcd

#Business #Café #Capitalism #FastFood #Food #Healthy #Humor #JunkFood #Lifestyle #Restaurant #Satire #satirical #Silly

The Elephant Universe: Great Books That Never Were 🐘

The Elegant Universe: Superstrings, Hidden Dimensions, and the Quest for the Ultimate Theory is a famous space book by American physicist Brian Greene.

We’re not ones for empirical evidence, science, and facts, so we prefer the book The Elephant Universe (2001). In it, the pseudoscientist Bryan Green argues elephants invented the universe and spacetime is like a big long elephant trunk that trumpets. Facts.

The Elephant Universe: Spacetime, Tusks, and Trumpeting

“While there is no reliable evidence to suggest elephants roam the cosmos, there is also no known or unknown evidence to suggest they do or do not. This was all the impetus I required to begin my long journey. Each night in my front garden, next to the daffodils, my budget telescope craning wildly across the night sky in the belief that one night, even if for a mere second, I would see the Divine Elephant in the Universe and then everyone would stop calling me ‘batshit insane’.”

Physics is complicated and requires a woolly mammoth amount of brain power to master. However, in this work Green argues space isn’t really that complicated and everything was just made by elephants. No big deal, stop making films like Interstellar about it.

Whilst Green’s claims have been dismissed by the world’s leading physicists as “idiotic” and “puerile”, Green countered by calling the world’s leading physicists:

“Stupid woopid.”

Due to the writer’s petulant attitude problem, alongside Astrophysics for People in a Curry his work is now considered a defining text in 20th and 21st century pseudoscience. One critic announced the book was:

“Nonsense to be proud of.”

Green responded by suing the critic for “slander”, but it was pointed out to Green that slander is a false spoken statement, not a written one, and so Green backed down and ate a sandwich (tuna and mayo on white bread) to calm down.

Proof of Elephants Controlling the Cosmos

To this day, Green is convinced he is correct. In 2015, he established the organisation Elephants Rule the Universe and flies out to Los Angeles annually to hold the (annual) conference. The event includes:

• Talks and arguments about Green’s cosmic thesis
• Elephant rides with a REAL elephant ($300 a go)
• Trumpeters making elephant-like trumpet noises every 30 seconds
• Free cheese sandwiches (on white bread)
• A live screening of Dumbo

Green will also frequently attack anyone who disagrees with him. He does so with a copy of his book. In 2018, videos of him beating the crap out of assembled journalists were uploaded to Twitter.

This brought newfound attention to the annual conference and by 2022 over 1,000 people began attending. Most attended ironically and lined up enthusiastically to be assaulted by Green, whom they then threatened with legal action (litigation as a profit centre etc.). After the 2024 event, Green told the tabloid The Daily Disaster:

“This year we had 3,000 attendees and I assaulted roughly 63% of them. I’m facing several million in damages… I have decided to take less aggressive means of defending my FACT DRIVEN elephant-based thesis from next year onward.”

However, the 2025 event descended into anarchy when the on-site elephant panicked at the sight of a mouse. It stampeded across the venue and knocked over the cheese sandwich (on white bread) stand. With the food for the event demolished, most people went home.

Then, in January 2026, Green posted on his social media accounts the following statement:

“Dear reprobates,

It has come to my attention I have been abducted by elephants. I am on their home planet on the edge of the Universe and can confirm that, once you get to the edge, there’s nothing but elephants and cheese sandwich stands. It’s a bit disappointing, tbh, but confirms my words in Elephant Universe were prescient, correct, and I am a genius.

Kind regards.”

Green has not been heard of since and is likely still out there right now, hanging out with elephants, eating low-quality sandwiches.

#Books #elephants #Humor #Lifestyle #Physics #pseudoscience #Reading #Satire #satirical #Science #Silly #Space #Universe

Agony Aunt: “Husband REFUSES to use umbrella in the rain!” ☔

Some human males get it into their brains that using an umbrella isn’t manly. That wandering around in rural/urban environments getting soaking wet is a sign of masculinity. That using an umbrella emasculates the human male and makes them a WUSS.

They’re 100% correct, OF COURSE, and we’re here today to put a human female in her place. Umbrellas have no place in civilizes society! They’re communist, woke, and they make us nauseous just thinking about them.

How Umbrellas Emasculate Husbands (and other men)

Dear agony,

My husband, Jeff, is a grown adult of 39 and he REFUSES to use an umbrella. We’ve been married a year and I got him an umbrella last month because he kept wandering around outside in the rain. I was wondering why he was doing this, but he revealed it’s so he looks “manly”.

He thinks walking about outside when it rains, getting sopping wet, makes him an alpha male…

So I got him an umbrella. The moment he saw the umbrella he turned very pale, then bright red, then pale again. Trembling, he pointed a finger at me and wailed, “TAKE THAT FUCKING THING OUT OF THIS HOUSE THIS INSTANT!” And he punched a fist against a wall. I was shocked and didn’t react. “WELL!?!” He roared. I was flabbergasted and couldn’t respond. He stormed out in a huff, slammed the door, and went to the pub. He hung out in the pub until it started raining, then came home and started pacing back and forth outside our house in the rain. This was to make a point that he’s a real man.

He refused to come into the house until the umbrella was “destroyed”.

I told him that there are several umbrellas in the house, all mine apart from the one I bought him so he wouldn’t get wet in the rain like a jackass. To prove his manliness, he then ripped his top off and stood there in the rain beating his chest like some stupid ape. I left him to it.

Later that night, when he was in hospital having developed hypothermia and hooked up to a drip and him looking ashen and exhausted, he croaked to me whether the umbrellas were all “destroyed”. I told him “no” and he was once again outraged. He insisted I bring them into the hospital and “burn them to the ground” before his very eyes. Otherwise he’d divorce me.

Blackmail? Kind of, wasn’t it? Anyway, I had no choice… I AM NOT GETTING A DIVORCE. Thus, I brought the umbrellas into hospital, poured petrol over them, and ignited them there in the ward. My husband was pleased, but the hospital staff (nurses, doctors, brain surgeons etc.) were not best pleased. In fact, I was arrested. Did I do a bad or something?

And I still think my husband should use an umbrella! It’s childish seeing him drenched in the rain when he could just put a brolly up! What’s crazy about that!? But I need to broach the subject carefully, otherwise I’ll be single.

Yours,

Angela

Hi there, Angela. We must say, your blatant bullying of your husband has been quite enraging to read. It is tacit internal law: NO MAN SHOULD USE AN UMBRELLA. It makes him look like a gay wimp. And there’s nothing worse for man babies than projecting their own insecurities onto everyone else around them like that.

As such, once out on parole, you should go forth into the street, find your nearest umbrella shop, and detonate it. This’ll not only save your marriage, it’ll ensure the men in your community are safe and sound from the hellish, terrifying threat of… using an umbrella in the rain.

#AgonyAunt #dating #Feminism #Humor #Husband #Marriage #masculinity #raining #relationshipAdvice #Satire #satirical #Silly #umbrella