My father was a sandwich, says Starmer

KEIR Starmer has come to the defence of sandwiches by pointing out that his father was a convenient bread-based meal.

In an effort to salvage some much-needed popularity, the prime minister revealed that as well as being a toolmaker his dad was also a salt-of-the-earth sandwich like the ones you buy from Boots or the Co-op.

He said: “In a metaphorical sense, my working-class father Rodney was a humble meal who contained proletarian fillings like bacon or chips. Class and privilege were the two societal slices of bread pressing down on him at all times.

“I’ve got many fond memories of him heading off for a long shift in the factory before promptly returning home in time for tea. And while none of us explicitly said so at the time, I know the whole family saw a sandwich when they looked at him. Cliche as that may sound.

“If he were bread, he would be cut from good honest Hovis. Bite into him and you would find cheese and maybe a thin spread of pickle. He was plain, straightforward, unexciting, and what you’d resort to if everything else was unappealing, just like me.”

Starmer added: “In a more literal sense my dad was admittedly a human being. I apologise deeply for misleading the public with a tedious, irrelevant anecdote about my background again.”

The nonce, the Chinese spy, and all my other great mates, by Prince Andrew

COME in! Welcome to my Royal household. Have you met everyone? This is Mr Epstein, this is a spy for China, and these are my other pals. Let me introduce you.

So yes, this is Jeff, he owns his own island. Play your cards right and you might wangle an invite. What will you do for entertainment while you’re there? Let’s just say there’s no need to pack a Lee Child. If I had to end our friendship, I’d do it solemnly and in person.

This is H6, he’s a businessman who enjoys close associations with the Chinese government. You know what that means? Money. All he asks is I smuggle a few associates in and out of the House of Windsor. Tremendous fun, like being back at Eton.

Over here is Adam. He’s an arms dealer, though I believe he also dabbles in people trafficking? Very international. Anyway great guy, if you need anything getting he’s the man, asks nothing more than a Da Vinci sketch from the Royal archives and there’s plenty.

Ah, you’ve met Marco. He has got a familiar face, hasn’t he? That’s why he’s here, unfortunately, because back in South America they’re still chasing him for entirely spurious war crimes. They took my private plane away too, so we get each other.

Now you have to meet Gary. You know Gary? The Green River Killer, second most prolific murderer in US history? A very close pal. We get together to complain about the guys Netflix hired to portray us on screen. Not very flattering! His was even worse than mine!

And finally Sarah, my ex-wife. Sarah Ferguson? Yes, sorry, I know it’s a bit awkward with the toe-sucking and the WeightWatchers deal and that book she wrote about the helicopter. Just smile and nod. She’s a bit of a pariah compared to these dudes.

So those are the guys! Get yourself a drink and we have cheese on little sticks. Shame Emily Maitlis hasn’t made it. I thought we were friends.