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The art of pissing on your chips, by Piers Morgan

ONTO a good thing? Want to completely f**k it up for yourself by going too far? Let me, the expert, show you how it’s done. 

Never know when to stop

Got the public on your side with a worthy cause, for example by editing the only tabloid opposed to the Iraq war? Blow all your credit by paying shitloads for obviously faked photos of detainee abuse, get caught, refuse to apologise and get escorted out of the building. Remain pompous and proud.

Misjudge the mood

Managed to turn that notoriety into a high-profile gig in America? Ratings spiralling because nobody has any idea who this up-himself Limey asshole is, apart from a buddy of that dumbshit Trump? Get behind a crusade for stricter gun laws and never, every let up until your show’s cancelled having made no difference to anything.

Bounce back

Return to the UK as unbowed and as arrogant as ever, get a job as lead knobhead on Good Morning Britain and proceed to claim an imaginary moral high ground on trivial issues ranging from vegan sausage rolls to Daniel Craig’s baby-carrier. Confuse being called a dick on Twitter for popularity.

Find a bandwagon

Stumble across a bandwagon, leap on and act like you invented shouting at politicians. Turn against your old pal Trump when it’s convenient for the same reasons you’d been ignoring for years. Briefly become popular because the rest of the media have given up questioning the government for some reason.

Continue to pursue your grudges

Don’t let success change you. Carry on a Twitter feud with any random celebrity who doubts your omniscience or asks awkward questions about phone-hacking. Be especially hateful towards Meghan Markle, who had a few drinks with you once then never took your calls again. Allow this anger to burn unchecked. Fuel it. Let it consume you.

Unzip flies, get your tiny cock out and piss all over your chips

Needlessly destroy your career by ranting for two hours about how much you hate Meghan Markle, only booking guests who hate Meghan Markle, and refusing to believe anyone could not hate Meghan Markle. Walk off your own show in rage when your hatred is mildly questioned. Get told to apologise or quit. Quit. Congratulate yourself on doing it again.

Six classic public information films updated for today

DO you fondly remember the blood-chilling public information films of the 1970s? These classics could be updated for the modern era: 

Charley says: be absolutely obsessed with paedophiles

Tony and his cat Charley warned children about strangers. A 2021 version would reflect the obsessive fears of the 21st century by showing Tony encountering paedos everywhere – in the park, at school, under the bed, hiding in rivers and swooping down in helicopters. Even Charley would turn out to be a nonce.

Take Care With Internet Challenges

Take Care With Fireworks was one of many fireworks films of the 70s, but then organised displays came along and spoilt all the maiming fun. Now youngsters need to be warned against taking part in dangerous internet challenges. Although if you eat urinal cakes at the behest of some knobhead in Australia, frankly you deserve it.

Don’t crap in a burger box on the beach

In 1973’s Broken Glass a happy child runs across a beach, unaware he is about to step on a broken bottle. After last summer’s beach mayhem, the film would now freeze just before the youngster steps on a Burger King box and squelches a human turd between his toes.

The Green Cross Code with Hayden Christensen

Original Somerset Darth Vader David Prowse starred in the originals, so why not update them with the bad, failed Darth Vader who everyone hated? Could easily include classic lines from the prequels like: ‘Look left, look right, look left again. I hate sand. It’s coarse and rough and irritating.’

Lonely Water For Idiots

Who needed horror movies when you could watch the Grim Reaper, menacingly voiced by Donald Pleasance, savour the drownings of 70s kids in murky local ponds and rivers? This should be updated to Come Dine With Me narrator Dave Lamb revelling in lagered-up twats tombstoning from clifftops.

Tufty gets an STD

Tufty the Squirrel should never have listened to Willy the Weasel saying it was ‘much better without a condom’. Now he has chlamydia – and possibly something far worse. Silly Tufty.

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