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In a rare outburst of common sense Keir Starmer is to introduce minimum qualification standards for MPs. They won’t need to match nurses or police officers – actual professionals with a responsible job – but a minimum of 3 A Levels at grade C will help to reduce the number of no-hopers who didn’t fancy PE teacher training college. Lee Anderson’s tyre swing will go, too.


Such a move would devastate Reform, reducing it from a mighty four MPs to possibly one, a figure so low that the BBC might feel compelled to reduce its airtime to just two hours per day plus a weekly special.


Nigel Farage’s qualifications are a closely guarded secret, which suggests that they were probably a bit shit. He claims to have ‘chosen’ not to go to university, instead pursuing a City career via the gruelling route of playing a round of golf with one of his Dad’s mates. Perhaps now we’ll find out whether it was Nigel or the universities which did the choosing . . .



In 2010 a crack exam-grade study group was sent to school for a crime they didn't commit. These classmates promptly escaped from a maximum security library to the London underground. Today, still wanted by hiring executives, they survive as underpaid contract workers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire...



...the A*-Team.


Do you have A* grades at A-level which are far superior to all A grades achieved by A-level students prior to 2010?


Can you turn a broken down combine harvester into a cabbage throwing machine while locked in a flimsy shed during a montage?


While spraying automatic machine gun fire at 600 rounds per minute, can you fail to hit a single baddie?


And do you want to own your own home, providing it's a 1983 GMC van with a cool stripe and a lovely paint job that you live in with three others?


If the answer is yes, then loiter by the vegan falafel stand at 3pm tomorrow and look out for someone badly disguised.


Your contact's coded phrase will be: 'I love it when a flan comes together.'


image from pixabay


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After the high stakes disaster porn of Covid, Trump, Brexit, Ukraine and Gaza, the nation was reassured today to return to the comforting familiarity of grade inflation stories.


'It’s like hearing the theme music to Wimbledon, or the Met Office’s annual prediction of a ‘barbecue summer’ that never arrives,' said one commuter, looking up from his newspaper. 'It reminds you that there’ll always be an England, and some things will never change.'


'I suppose on some level it’s not good that kids are getting an A grade just for turning up for the exam on the right day, and an A star if they know their name as well… But I don’t care. It’s just so reassuring to read that story every year. Whenever I see it, I know it’s time to renew my home insurance and get the car serviced.'


He then admitted that he always buys the Telegraph on what he calls 'fruity girls' day, a reference to that newspaper’s tradition of illustrating the annual A-level results story with a picture of the prettiest girls it can find opening their results, which he insisted was quality journalism and not creepy at all.


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