How to be an absolute bellend, by Tim Martin

HI, I’m big-haired idiot Tim Martin. When I’m not running crap pubs I’m being awful to my staff. Here’s how to be an absolute bellend like me.

Tell your staff to get a job at Tesco

Few things are worse than working in Wetherspoons, but being told to think about getting a job in Tesco while you’re effectively laid-off is close. Especially coming from someone who got a £600,000 bonus.

Downplay the coronavirus

Shutting pubs is all a bit of an overreaction, isn’t it? The coronavirus is no worse than the flu, after all. Only decide to take it seriously when further denial is starting to look actually bonkers.

Make your job needlessly political

A high street pub should be a lovely place where everyone can feel welcome. But by running your pro-Brexit mouth in the news you can make sure your bars simmer with a strange but undeniable tension.

Only wear polo shirts

Crumpled collars and the Ralph Lauren logo are the visual calling cards of the bellend. Take the look further by tucking your polo shirt into your corduroys and pairing it with a brain-dead, troll-like facial expression.

Create Wetherspoons

Quirky sites like theatres and banks should not be left to grow old with dignity, instead they should be converted into pubs where cheap pints are pulled by cheaper staff. And on Thursdays you can make a big deal about serving microwaved curries. In fact pretend all your cheapo food is a wonderful public service.

 

Good thing we stockpiled, say f**kwits

BRITONS stuck at home for months have reflected that it is a good thing they stockpiled or they would not have all this rice. 

People who like peering out of their windows looking for non-household groups to shout at are getting massive chubbies every time they open a cupboard filled with tinned tomatoes. 

Norman Steele said: “22 pounds of pasta. 18 pounds of rice. A battery farm’s-worth of eggs. 

“These are the things that keep me calm in the current emergency. Knowing that when others are slaughtering their guinea pigs for meat, I’ll still be munching through Pringles. 

“Of course, I’m still at the shops every two days. You’re allowed and they can’t stop you and I don’t want my supplies running low. And actually they’re surprisingly well-stocked. 

“In fact I’ve barely had to touch my stockpiles at all, and in some areas I’m still building them up. 40 bottles of shampoo. Yay me.” 

Neighbour Donna Sheridan said: “We consider Norman’s stockpile to be the community stockpile, and the minute we run out of anything we’ll inform him of that with crowbars.”