Inside a man's wank bank: A psychologist gives a guided tour

DID you know the wank bank in men’s heads can be navigated like a ‘mind castle’? Here psychologist Dr Donna Sheridan takes you inside a typical man’s masturbatory archives.

The obvious wanks hallway

The entrance to the wank bank contains the most predictable wanking material: Pamela Anderson, Emily Ratajkowski and Rihanna. Like your hallway at home, no one spends much time in it.

The teenage self-abuse living room

Here you’ll find everyone from a fit drama student in a 1988 production of The Tempest on a school trip, to a random model in a shower in the Argos catalogue. It’s f**king relentless: Mrs Palmer the distractingly cute Maths teacher, Rachel Hughes from 3JW in dodgy gym kit, Kate O’Mara in the opening credits of Triangle. It’s a miracle your wanked-out brain could remember what terminal moraine was.

The IKEA nerd wanks storage unit 

The living room may also contain an imaginary flatpack shelf/drawer unit. Open it and you’ll find tragically nerdy wank fantasies: Judge Anderson, Saavik, both Galadriels and, somewhat worryingly, the featureless EVE robot from WALL-E.

The Billie Piper dog basket 

Not in any way implying that Billie is unattractive, just that she’s a loveable, ever-faithful presence in the wank bank.

The upmarket wank fodder conservatory 

This traditional conservatory stores totally unattainable women: Keira Knightley, Helena Bonham Carter, Liz Hurley, Kate Beckinsale, Charlotte Rampling. Even so it’s wise not to sit down, the rattan sofa is a bit sticky.

The stairs

Just stairs. Even a mental construct needs a way of getting between floors.

The 90s lad’s mag bedroom

Full of surprisingly clear 1990s lad’s mag memories: Lucy Pinder, Natalie Appleton, Kirsty Gallacher. Unfortunately you’ll be put off your stroke by wondering what happened to Kathy Lloyd.

The co-workers bathroom

Wanking material accrued from endless crap jobs. Contains the odd real-life ex, but mainly memories of the one super-attractive co-worker who smashed all her male colleagues’ pathetic fantasies into a million tiny pieces when she brought her preternaturally good-looking fiance on £300k a year to the office Christmas party.

The ex-girlfriend spare bedroom

Like a real spare room, this is incredibly handy to have, either for guests, storing old computer equipment, or providing highly detailed wank material. 

The deepest fantasies main bedroom 

Turn left after the id on the landing, and you’ll find yourself in the dark heart of the wank bank. Here the most private fantasies lurk: rescuing Janet Ellis from Mr Noseybonk, Taylor Swift in Cats, the naked woman from the painting The Wings of Love. Shit, is that Maid Marian the cartoon fox from the 1973 Disney film Robin Hood? Yes. Yes it is. Time to leave.

Five benefits of not being alive, by Steve Barclay

A LACK of ambulance drivers sounds bad, but have you considered these upsides of being dead? Here health secretary Steve Barclay lists the positives.

No more strikes

Strikes are meant to be a pain, but wouldn’t you rather they stopped happening? Succumbing to death is easier than ever if you live in England or Wales, and you’ll be transported to a world free from Mick Lynch and nurses holding placards. Coincidentally, death was the offer we ran past the unions, but the ungrateful swine wanted more money AND staying alive.

Cost of living crisis: over

Being alive is cripplingly expensive, but rotting in the ground doesn’t cost you a penny. Once you’re in a coffin you don’t have to worry about your electricity bill, the interest rate on your mortgage or the state of your pension. This probably explains why death is so popular that everyone gives it a go sooner or later.

Amazing work/life balance

Balancing professional responsibilities and personal commitments is nigh-on impossible, but only if you’re unlucky enough to be alive. After shuffling off this mortal coil, bosses stop expecting you to fill in spreadsheets and friends only pop round once a year to drop off flowers. You could devote your life to your hobbies and interests, if you had motor functions.

You’ll lose weight

Overdid it at Christmas? Carrying around a few more pounds than you’d like? Try dying. Within days the excess flab will start to rot away, and in a matter of months you’ll be toned to a spindly husk that even Gwyneth Paltrow will be envious of. Best of all you don’t have to lug yourself to the gym or watch what you eat.

Being free from Spare coverage

Rolling coverage of Prince Harry’s memoir is enough to make even the happiest of people yearn for the sweet release of death. And given that he’s bound to churn out a few sequels after his debut sold so well, you’re better off peacefully exiting this mortal plane now to avoid the inevitable drama. Even the good bits of life like Happy Valley and Doritos won’t make up for it.