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Bastard couple who've never worked on themselves in happy, loving relationship

A SICKENING couple who have never improved themselves in any way are in a committed, loving relationship.

Neither Jack Browne and Lauren Hewitt has made any effort to overcome their innate emotional immaturity like single people have to if they want to find a partner, but are nonetheless seemingly in love.

Browne said: “Yeah, I guess we’ve just worked past our unresolved issues? Or they fit together so neatly we don’t notice them.

“We just struck up conversation in a cafe and went from there. I’ve never had to re-evaluate my personality in the middle of the night or spend hundrends on counselling to help me find a partner. I’d recommend it.”

Hewitt said: “Not only does Jack accept me for who I am, I’m fine with who he is. I guess that’s why were not single, lonely, and suffering hundreds of algorithmic rejections every day.

“If you have to develop a stronger sense of self then it probably means you’re broken and shouldn’t be in a relationship anyway. Perhaps you should fill the void with a cat.”

Single friend Charlotte Phelps said: “I’ve bought a new self-help book called ‘F**k Him, F**k Them, F**k Everyone, They’re All Wankers: Putting Yourself First’. That should fix me.”

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British man decides that in event of nationwide power cut he would get pissed

A MAN has looked at the power cut across Spain, considered his options, and decided that in similar circumstances in the UK he would get pissed. 

Nathan Muir of Hitchin contemplated those trapped in cities, sleeping on airport floors, abandoned on rural train routes or merely seated in dark homes and concluded alcohol would be advisable in every case.

He continued: “Whether this is a cyberattack, net zero or Putin, the future is clear: I need to start carrying a hip flask.

“And cash, of course, and I need to replenish the emergency beers I keep under the bed in the spare room. I’ve let myself get slack since lockdown ended.

“Imagine being in a completely dark Madrid, gathered at a bar, sinking Estrellas by candlelight before bunking down in the back room. Does that sound like a legendary night to anyone else?

“And nothing aids sleeping on a concrete train platform than being absolutely paralytic. Trust me. I speak from experience.”

He added: “Ideally, the power would come back on the next morning while I was urinating on an electrified rail, sending 25,000 volts up my cock and me flying backwards to cheers from the crowd. I wouldn’t be hurt because I’d still be drunk.”

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