F**k fishing quotas: what Britain really cares about in the UK-EU trade deal

THE UK is leaving the EU and we have less time to broker a trade deal than to finish the contract for the gym you’ve stopped going to. Here’s what our negotiators must prioritise:

Skiing holidays

Scotland claims to do skiing, but it’s crap. What Britons need is guaranteed right-of-access to the Alps, the Pyrenees and the Carpathians. How can we be middle-class without skiing, snowboarding and après ski? Johnson should call it a ‘social mobility necessity’.

Booze

The gin distilleries and microbreweries of Peckham can’t satisfy Britain’s thirst for alcohol. Parties don’t get wild until someone brings out some really strong shit from Estonia. If we don’t have plentiful imports of meth-like spirits with names like Slivic, a new wave of Baltic sea pirates will convert P&O ferries into floating speakeasies.

Banking twats

An export rather than an import, the EU must agree to take 30 per cent of our City wankers per annum or there’s no deal. Amsterdam and Frankfurt will be ruined but that’s their problem, much as it will be when we ship all our hipsters to Berlin.

Beach holidays

Without cheap European beach breaks there will be nowhere for Brits to have humiliating formative experiences. Negotiators must keep our teenage trips to Magaluf where we get so sunburnt and drunk that we puke on Jay from Southend who still gets off with us regardless.

Eurovision points

EU countries must be legally compelled to vote for the British entry in Eurovision. The morale boost to our divided country would do more than any stupid 50p. The UK would unite, waving Union Jacks and feeling unrestrainedly superior like on good old D-Day.

Terrible meat products

Spam, corned beef and haslet are this country’s greatest assets and must be traded with to EU countries for their innovations, like motorways without speed restrictions and beating each other with birch twigs in saunas before small, relaxed orgies. The EU will sign up if they know what’s good for them.

Every day is like a romcom, say working mums

WORKING mothers have confirmed that every day of their lives is a quirky and heartwarming journey like in a romantic comedy. 

Mums admit they typically spend their days harrassed but still beautiful, gamely dealing with charming children and rewarding creative jobs while repeatedly bumping into handsome men they had not previously thought of in that way.

Jo Kramer, aged 32, said: “I love my hectic dash through a crowded transport terminus every day! It’s just like a romantic chase sequence from a Richard Curtis film, except I’m running towards a job I don’t like and will be fired from if I’m late again.

“All the funny little obstacles that get put in your way, like a child suddenly needing a parrot costume or breaking a heel off my shoe, are just put there for me to deal with smilingly and with a roll of the eyes.

“By the end I’ve triumphed over my cruel boss by saving the day with an impromptu from-the-heart presentation, raced off to catch my daughter’s school play, and encountered my hunky neighbour again only to kiss him and realise he’s the love of my life.

“Though my husband’s never that keen on that last bit.”