Stylish Masturbator, with Dylan Jones

A NANO-BREAK is like a mini-break for the genuinely important.

Pioneered by lifestyle innovator, architect, cyborg and close personal friend Morton Jax, the nano-break condenses the travel experience into 117 minutes, which psychologists believe is the maximum length of time a high-status person can spend before a really vital email arrives.

It is also the running time of the film Three Days of the Condor which is notable for Rob Redford’s chambray shirt. But that is a coincidence.

My current wife, a former beachwear model, and I recently nano-broke in the Georgian spa town of Bath.

Exploding out of the train station on our matching Segway scooters, our plan was to hit 14 boutiques, enjoy a 12 minute pamper experience and then swallow a cream tea before taking in a specially-abridged performance of Jerusalem where Mark Rylance speaks very quickly.

But these best-laid plans soon fell into disarray. Despite the protestations of my long-legged spouse, for sheer edgy cool you cannot top masturbating in a disabled toilet in the provinces.

When we chanced upon the aforementioned facility during our blurry sprint around the Georgian splendour, I had to avail myself. My reluctant wife was despatched to guard the door, telling people that her brother was in there having a fit.

Things came fully unglued when I fell into a spontaneous post-onanistic slumber, waking 92 minutes later on the toilet floor with a queue of angry wheelchair users outside baying for my blood. As I made my escape, I’m fairly certain I dodged a flying colostomy bag.

Perhaps the nano-break pushes us too far. For the cash-rich and time-poor I think the future of life maximisation lies in cloning – while one of me is enjoying a cream tea, the other is locked in a disabled toilet with his trousers around his ankles.

Dylan Jones is founding editor and masturbator-at-large for Stylish Masturbator magazine

Burden should fall on those with the most character, says Osborne

OLD people must bear the burden of the top rate tax cut because they are so good at it, George Osborne has insisted.

The chancellor said he took money from OAPs and give it to millionaires because they are always going on about how they can cope with hardship so much better than the younger generation.

Defending his weird, asocial Budget, Mr Osborne said: “At a time of sacrifice, it is only right that those sacrifices are made by people with lots of practice.

“It would be unfair to expect the shallow, vapid rich or bubble-wrapped middle class professionals under 50 to suddenly develop some character.

“If I had increased taxes for wealthy, spineless people they would be crying in the street and embarrassing everyone.

“Older people have been wise enough to build-up valuable reserves of fortitude so that they now have the decency to weep in the privacy of their own home.”

He added: “Meanwhile, poor people are wonderful characters who shake off their misfortune with a joke and a dirty song. I could make life a lot easier for them but I would be hacking away at the very foundations of British folk music.”

Margaret Gerving, a retired headmistress from Guildford, said: “Personal allowances? I shit ’em. You’ll have to do better than that you pointless little fart.”

Mr Osborne said he will tax rich people when they stop consoling themselves with luxury goods every time they feel a bit sad.