Pair of sexless lumps under blankets used to be man and wife

A PAIR of unmoving, sexless lumps buried beneath multiple layers of blankets and clothing were once man and wife, it is believed. 

The heaps, which never move apart from to involuntarily shiver, are thought to have been couple Joseph and Marie Turner as recently as October.

Archaologist Denys Finch Hatton said: “At first we assumed these two inanimate accretions of blankets, coverlets, hoodies and fleece-lined slippers had formed naturally.

“But then further scans revealed that, impossible to tell as it was from their unmoving surfaces, these heaps were once alive and human.

“Indeed we believe, based on the television before them cycling through various unappealing options on Netflix, that deep down inside there remains a spark of consciousness and a remote control.

“They no longer have any of the attributes we would associate with human. They no longer have any awareness of each other’s existence. The cold has taken it all away.”

He added: “It is possible they could be returned to a state recognisable as human by the application of warmth. But we can’t afford to put the heating on. This is a three-bed house.”

Bin man, HGV driver, and other professions where you can't date on the job

NURSE? Office worker? Mobile hairdresser? It’s easy for you to find love at work. But there are vocations that refuse to accommodate a meet-cute: 

Bin man

It’s hard to charm a lady at 5am when you’ve woken them up shouting about the location of their wheelie bin, and nobody’s at their best when bespackled with rotting chicken and wet cardboard. Perhaps you and a co-worker will lock eyes one morning over a tub of clinking wine bottles?

HGV driver

Long nights driving long-haul are lonely, but eligible singles don’t hang out at motorway services waiting for Cupid’s arrow to strike. Not even fancy ones with an M&S Food. The chances are also against hooking up with gorgeous ladies at the Eddie Stobart Seasonal Ball. You’ll have to order one online.

Mortician

It’s an honorable profession and we’ll all need one someday. Yet, unfairly, the living tend to avoid those who spend their days working with the dead, and it’s considered bad form to give the grieving a call and tell them they looked amazing in that little black number at the funeral.

Lighthouse keeper

Taking this job is admitting that Tinder’s not really working for you. If you’re suited to it then you’re probably not the type to pull even if you spent every waking moment in bars. You have self-consciously limited your romance options to angry seabirds, though there’s always mermaids.

Miner

Feminism has yet to see women rush in to lucrative jobs in nickel mining. Fantasies about your hands brushing while operating a boring machine 2.42km below the surface, and passion sparking over the ore-crusher, will remain just that.

Astronaut

The stereotypical astronaut has an anxious wife in an apron watching the rocket launch from home, but if you’ve got no-one? Are you secretly hoping all those Star Trek episodes were true, and your capsule will soon be boarded by green-skinned alien woman in silver bikinis? Or something more exotic made of sentient boiling silicate?