What to do with all the space inside your massive f**king car: a guide for SUV owners

DRIVING around in a small motorised bungalow? You might be struggling to fill the cavernous space around you. Try these solutions:

Open a petting zoo

You probably justified your off-road car purchase with the fact you own a dog, or might own one one day, or liked the idea until you found out they don’t pick up their own shit. Channel the animal lover in you and set up a travelling petting zoo with chinchillas in the back, an ostrich in the front seat and a flock of rare-breed sheep in the boot.

Run a school

Recently the nation has learnt that school is as much a nightmarish state of mind as it is a place parents send children, so why not set up your own exclusive in-car educational facility? From the pick-up to the drop-off there wouldn’t be a moment of learning wasted, and even with 30 kids it’ll be less overcrowded than actual classrooms.

Set up a mobile vaccination unit

The NHS needs all the support it can get right now, so why not double up your outsized transportation as a medium-sized mobile health clinic? Paperwork in the glove box, vaccines in the f**k-off-massive boot, medical staff in every single executive leather seat. Or if not vaccines, perhaps a Nightingale hospital?

Sublet it

With a car roomier than the average new-build you’re foolish to not unlock the capital and become a landlord. Move a family on Universal Credit into the boot, charge above the market rate and keep their tenancy deposit.

Found a new principality

Scotland’s on the way out, so let the Tories save face by making your car an official state and bringing it into the union. You’re already looking down on regular car drivers physically, so why not appoint yourself supreme monarch of your own motorised realm?

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Man finds credit card receipt from pub visit and breaks down

A MAN has found a credit card receipt from a night down the pub with his mates this time last year and broken down.

Tom Logan discovered the receipt when filing his tax return and was painfully reminded of when he used to have mates and options and a life.

He said: “The Golden Lion. I remember it. I remember the whole night.

“It seemed unremarkable at the time – pints, a game of pool, Leipzig beating Spurs on the telly – but I’d sacrifice my first-born child to be there now.

“I found the receipt and sat for two hours tracing my finger slowly down it, remembering each pint, each Jaegerbomb, each packet of pork scratchings. We joked about not shaking hands. That was funny to us.

“Nowadays when I go to get chips I queue outside and use hand sanitiser before I touch the ketchup, then wake up at 4am worrying.”

“I might get the receipt framed, in memory of all those ice-cold pints sitting unpoured in pubs. And instead of Live Laugh Love, it’ll say Pub Pub Pub.”

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