Deluded man swears you used to be able to buy things with a fiver

A MAN who has lost his grip on reality is convinced that goods or services could once be bought with nothing more than a five pound note. 

Having just returned from the shops where he bought no more than a couple of items for the usual tenner-plus, 36-year-old Martin Bishop is baselessly claiming that a fiver used to be enough to cover a small purchase and receive change.

He said: “Am I going mad? Or is this the Mandela Effect? No way should a pint of milk, a loaf and a small tin of beans cost upwards of four quid.

“It sounds like bullshit but I can vividly recall being able to buy a pint with a fiver, even in London. Olive oil used to be so cheap you wouldn’t even check the price and takeaway coffees were paid for with nothing but coins, I swear to God.

“Why would the Mint even produce five pound notes when they’re essentially worthless? Because they didn’t used to be. Because once, not long ago, they were a viable unit of currency. Don’t look at me like I’m a tinfoil hat-wearing lunatic. This is real.”

Friend Nikki Hollis said: “This happened to my dad. He said you could once get a fiver out of a cashpoint and buy 20 fags with it. We’ve sent him to a home.

“Though, now Martin says it, I do have a dim memory of receiving a birthday card when I was a child with a five pound note inside it. Was Auntie Joan taking the f**king piss?”

'I wouldn't have set fire to a Holiday Inn if I'd been kept abreast of the relevant facts'

By Wayne Hayes, unemployed plasterer and political prisoner

HERE I am, inside HMP Risley, for throwing a burning bin through a Holiday Inn window. When the real crime is that I was wilfully under-informed. 

Myself, and the other lads who joined in the rioting last summer, weren’t far-right as the media claimed. We certainly weren’t motivated by racism; those of us with convictions for race-related violence had learned our lessons on that front.

No, we took to the streets because of a paucity of information. Because we were hearing rumours about the Southport murders that the police, frustratingly, refused to verify.

I remember shouting it as I threw a brick at a copper’s head: ‘Bollocks the release of confidential details of an ongoing investigation would endanger a successful prosecution! The public have a right to know!’

‘Yeah,’ one of the lads who was with me, a tireless crusader for truth and Derby Country, agreed, ‘and don’t go blaming it all on the Crown Prosecution Service, you pig twat!’ before steaming into a wall of riot shields.

But, because information was purposefully withheld from those who would have been most responsible with it, we had to act. Yes, I was masked. Yes, I set fire to a wheelie bin. And yes, I subsequently hurled it through a window. What choice did I have?

So I hope the authorities learn their lesson. And next time there’s a horrific crime, I hope they have the basic level of trust to get on our Telegram channels and give us the facts. Only the ones that suit us, obviously. Nothing irrelevant like him not being an asylum-seeker or his parents being Christian.

In the meantime I remain a political prisoner, locked up for nothing more than my beliefs, violent disorder, assaulting an emergency worker and possessing an illegal weapon. And class A drugs. An innocent man, basically.