The Mash guide to tax evasion

From the highest in the land to alcoholic derelicts sleeping in shop doorways, everyone evades tax and has tacit government approval to do so.

But what are the most popular ways to cheat the taxman?

— Pretend your home is your shed, your shed is your home, the dog is your landlord and you pay a £1,565pa tax-deductible service charge for picking up his waste. Keep each one in case of an audit.

— Make yourself into a corporation by adding Holdings Ltd to the end of your name, wearing a glass office block costume whenever out in public and replying to every human interaction with “I’ll have to send that through channels.”

— Friends in high places go a long way with HMRC. Invite Lord Fink to a party, or if he’s not available try his colleagues Lord Ratbastard or Lord Stoolie.

— Non-domiciled status is for the little people. Claim your permanent residence is a container ship perpetually circling the earth, and that any sightings of you in the UK are a remotely-controlled hologram.

— If you refuse to use any public services, it’s illegal to make you pay tax. Join BUPA, have your children educated privately, and travel on a secret network of unpaved back roads only known to hobos.

— Remember, tax evasion is graded in ice-cream flavours. Vanilla is fine, Raspberry Ripple is charmingly retro, Chocolate Fudge Brownie carries the risk of prison time and Bone Marrow with Bourbon Smoked Cherries means termination with extreme prejudice.

 

Friday the 13th still luckier than any Monday

FRIDAY the 13th, supposedly the unluckiest day in the calendar, remains some distance better than any Monday according to researchers.

The day’s reputation for accidents, misfortune or being slaughtered by a man wearing a hockey mask or his mother is justified but easily shrugged off because there is no work the following day.

Professor Henry Brubaker, of the Institute for Studies, said: “We analysed the data and the chance of breaking a limb, losing your cashcard or leaving the office only to see your car suddenly vanish into a sinkhole is, indeed, up to eighty times higher than normal.

“However, we also found that any suffering was still nowhere near as bad as the unbearable psychological pain of finishing a full day’s work and there still being four more days to go.”

Solicitor Tom Logan said: “I left the house this morning, stepped on a stray rollerskate, skidded into an open manhole cover and looked up, dazed, only to see a grand piano falling onto my already-broken body.

“It’s a catalogue of terrible misfortune, but being in a full-body cast means no work until June and the lads are bringing a few cans to the hospital later tonight.

“Fridays rock.”