France to return to monarchy

FRANCE has announced it has failed as a democratic republic and is to return to good old-fashioned monarchical rule.

Following the deposing of prime minister Michel Barnier after just three months, the country has decided to face facts, cut its losses and go back to the golden years of divine sun kings.

Jacques Brun of Brive-la-Gaillarde, washing down a handful of snails with a glass of Beaujolais, said: “Eh, why not? Trump is in, we can see which way le vent souffler.

“It would seem the world returns to preposterous, vainglorious idiots seated upon thrones of gold and attended to by giggling sycophants in wigs, and we did it first and did it best. Time to get a Louis in.

“Unfortunately we rather extinguished the royal line with our typical zeal a couple of hundred years ago, but we’re French, we’ll pick somebody who looks sexy in a crown. I rather fancy Léa Seydoux myself.

“Then we’ll plunge ourselves back into full decadence whether sexual, artistic and gastronomic. It will be a century of rococo excess and powdered, aristocratic deviancy. The whole of Disneyland Paris will not be enough to contain their orgies.

“The rest of the country? We can get f**ked, we had our chance. It’s back to peasantry, cholera and an average life expectancy of 35.”

How to harshly judge a new friend based entirely on their Christmas tree

BEEN invited for a Christmas drink at a new friend’s house? Here’s how to make sweeping judgements about their class and taste based entirely on their Christmas tree.

Be a massive snob about it being fake

Despite them saying a fake tree is better for them because their partner is allergic to pine needles and it means less cleaning up, you can’t help but look down on them. Imagine tugging it out of the attic and yanking all those cheap fake branches out as if it’s 1987. You thought you’d come to a sophisticated party, but now you’re expecting them to bring out a Viennetta and a box of Black Magic, the dreadful oiks.

Internally roll your eyes because it’s huge

Honestly, only the worst kind of upper-middle-class dickhead would have the gall to have both high ceilings and a bushy, healthy tree that reaches right up to them. Who do they think they are, William and Kate having a sumptuous yet wholesome Christmas in their charming Windsor cottage? You secretly pocket a tasteful wooden decoration to spite them, because it no doubt came from John Lewis and cost £25.

Question their taste because it has a theme

Ugh, it’s so trashy to have baubles in the same colour palette as the tinsel, or to hang up dried orange slices because you saw it on TikTok. Why haven’t they got a mish-mash of ancient, cracked plastic bells from the 1970s and shitty paper-and-glitter angels that their now 30-year-old kids made in primary school? They are clearly heartless, tasteless bastards who value aesthetics over family.

Make judgements about their class based on the lights

If the lights are lots of colours, the wrong colour, the wrong shape, too large, twinkling or playing a tune, they are incorrect. And they mean your friend is working-class. The only acceptable kind of Christmas tree light is a restrained string of warm white ones which definitely don’t do anything as common as flashing. Pretend to admire them while thinking up ways to make your excuses and leave before they offer you a glass of shop-bought eggnog.

Pity them if it’s not traditional

Is their tree white, or silver, or made of cardboard or twigs or feathers or balloons? There is obviously something wrong with them which means they feel the need to be more special and interesting than everyone else. Perhaps their marriage is on the rocks or they have a personality disorder. Whatever it is, you feel sorry for them. And you hate their Christmas tree.

Make your excuses and leave if it has real candles on it

Someone who puts real candles on their Christmas tree and lights them is literally playing with fire, especially come January 5th when the branches are tinder dry after a month inside with no water. They must be either certifiably insane or so posh and rich that they could cope with their house burning down without much bother. Either way, leave immediately, for your own safety. And you’re not schlepping all the way to the local burns unit to give them their Christmas card.