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What the continental football shirt you choose to wear says about the twat you are

BRITISH, but strutting around in an Inter Milan shirt like you’re something special? Did you know your chosen garment also reveals what kind of twat you are?

Real Madrid

Being a Manchester United fan wasn’t loathsome enough for you. You had to step it up to being despised by a whole continent, so you switched when Ronaldo did. Easier to lord it over Liverpool when you’ve won 14 European Cups, and you really like watching all the top teams and deciding which of their players you’ll have next.

Barcelona

It isn’t their achievements you wish to associate your fat Essex-born self with, it’s their philosophy. Elegant, stylish, committed to the elevation of the creative spirit, you are Barca and Barca are you. Like them you’re mortgaged to the f**king hilt to live an aspirational lifestyle you cannot afford.

Paris Saint-Germain

You’ve chosen to be the baddies. A glittering array of teams before you and you went ‘Who’s the most evil? That one.’ The team known for dominating the French league like cyborgs from the future while dismally and predictably failing everywhere else. Much as you’re known throughout the Swindon area but only as an arsehole.

Inter Milan

You’re not Italian, no, but you feel you have something of that Latinate swagger, that Vespa braggadocio. That you and the Pope could converse on equal terms. And Inter, with their sophistication and world-weary superiority, are very much who you emulate while pushing the trolley around Makro bulk-buying toilet paper.

Bayern Munich

Proudly boring, monotonously successful, you drive a German car, shop in a German supermarket and believe in efficiency above all other things. Were the Nazis efficient? That’s not a conversation you’re interested in having right now. Though you do like to read books about tank movements.

Union Berlin

F**king hipster bellend.

Man trying to ignore all the shit bits about sunshine

A MAN is struggling to enjoy the gorgeous weather because he is having to ignore all of its many awful side effects.

Josh Hudson knows that glorious sunshine is good in theory, but is having to go to a lot of effort to block out all of the annoying bollocks that goes along with it.

He said: “You can’t complain about sunny weather because it makes you look like a miserable killjoy. Something this good shouldn’t be such a pain in the bloody arse though.

“I’ve had to shut the blinds so the glare doesn’t bounce off the TV and blind me, my body has found new places to sweat out of, and if I want to go outside I have to lather my body in a special protective cream first. You don’t get that shit in autumn.

“Then if I do step out I don’t know where to look. At the pretty ladies in their skimpy floral dresses? I’m not taking that risk. At the topless blokes? I’m not into rolls of sweaty flab. No, my eyes will have to be glued to the pavement until October.

“But aside from all of that, the flocks of annoying tourists it brings to the area, how it turns everyone into pissed-up dickheads, and the risk of heat stroke, I’m really glad it’s sunny out. Love it.”

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