Drug anecdotes to be criminalised

SHARING interminable and exaggerated anecdotes about drug experiences is to be made a criminal offence, it has emerged. 

The new government is to criminalise all class A and B stories, whether middle-class ayahuasca retreats or Glaswegian coke nights, with penalties ranging from fines to community service.

Martin Bishop, director of anti-drug story lobbyists Just Shut Up, said: “We’ve all suffered them: the posh girl at uni taking you through every detail of her whitey, the friend’s Twitterstorm about her Glastonbury acid experience.

“These modern myths are inflicted on the world and can last up to six hours, depending on the number of dramatic pauses. They burgle your brain, steal your time and should be punishable with the lash.

“Prison will only give them more anecdotes. 200 hours slaving in a community garden will make this scum think twice before launching into a lengthy story about swallowing a ball of hashish on a Nepalese bus.”

Jules Cook, the curator of Britain’s largest collection of original rave tales, said: “This is just another example of the fascist state oppressing the modern-day shaman.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I’m in Lisbon with Pezz and Mezz and we’d done the mushrooms but thought they weren’t working so decided to build the biggest bong in the world. Where are you going?”

Teenager discovers random, arbitrary punishment from universe is actually a job

A TEENAGER in her first job was shocked to be remunerated for her efforts, having assumed it was part of a grand scheme to make her life miserable. 

Hannah Tomlinson donned her Tesco uniform and slaved through five-hour shifts under the presumption it was, like A-levels and parental phone bans, just an elaborate form of persecution designed to make her suffer for no reason.

The 18-year-old said: “Everything in my world, from my idiot parents to my shithead mates blasting me on Snapchat, is created to hurt me. Why would this be different?

“I turned up, mopped floors, and restocked Pot Noodles thinking this was the same, and the uniform was a nice touch. But it turns out the company that’s been keeping me prisoner every weekend for the last month pays me money?

“I’ve already got enough to replace my broken phone screen and I get the same next month so I can afford to break it again. I thought evil forces had conspired against me to force me to serve this gruelling sentence. Now it might be alright.”

Mother Lindsey said: “What Hannah reported as a gross miscarriage of justice which could only be dealt to her, the most unfortunate person alive, is in reality a decent job.

“I can’t wait to see the expression on her face when I ask her to pay rent.”