Six ways the cost-of-living crisis will affect your weekend

EVERYTHING costs more but you’re bored. How will rampant inflation bugger up your attempt to enjoy a typical weekend?

Saturday morning

You’re awoken early by the kids. They’re bored because you cancelled Netflix last night to save money, and in your words ‘there’s less on this f**ker than Channel 5’. You head downstairs for own-brand cereal and no heating.

Saturday afternoon

It’s nice enough so you decide to head out to a National Trust site, not that you’re members anymore but there’s one where you can park for free and sneak in. Except there’s billions of cars, it takes 40 minutes to find a space, and they’ve closed that loophole.

Saturday evening

The family snuggles under blankets for movie night on ITV4, and for warmth. When they’re in bed you cook a simple meal of Sainsbury’s cheap-brand microwave rogan josh, and you really can taste the difference. It’s foul.

Sunday morning

After using way too much petrol yesterday, you walk your son a mile to his football match and back, him whinging all the way. Once there you go to buy a tea and a pie to warm up and it costs nearly eight quid, eliminating any saving.

Sunday afternoon

You finally find time to go furniture shopping to replace your broken armchair, and they want how f**king much? All these bastards were £200 less a month ago. Even DFS? Ridiculous. You drive home in a fury and Google ‘armchair repairs’ while the kids play in the garden like it’s lockdown.

Sunday evening

Having had no fun at any point, you grimly face another working week by hastily ironing shirts like there’s a meter running while the family gathers in the heat of the steam. Tonight you have a nightmare about rising interest rates.

Heckles were the best bit of comedy night, says heckler

A NIGHT of stand-up comedy was vastly inferior to the witty and hilarious heckles from a drunk audience member, according to that person.

Wayne Hayes – who suffers from an extreme lack of self-awareness – wandered into the comedy night after five beers. While the audience appeared to be enjoying the professional, rehearsed sets, Hayes knew they secretly wanted something more.

Hayes said: “I warmed them up with some classic gags. When the first comedian asked if anyone else was in from Jamaica, I said yes. I’m not, but it’s funny because it’s so random, yeah?

“Then I kicked things up a gear. If they asked a rhetorical question I’d have an answer ready for them. Something properly edgy, like ‘paedos’ or ‘your mum’. Then I hit them with my topical material – Brexit, Bill Cosby, Crossroads.

“The stand-ups blanked me because they wished they’d come up with my zingers. Even the audience stayed silent because they didn’t want to embarrass them.

“When a lady stand-up came on I did some absolutely side-splitting stuff about her regional accent and low-cut top. It was so good I went to grab the mic so everyone could hear it more clearly.

“For some reason she told me to f**k off at that point. Probably jealousy, because I could easily be a brilliant stand-up. I’d give it a go, but my material’s probably too good for comedy clubs and TV.”