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We’ve all had that useless colleague, the one who swans about looking and sounding important but never does any actual fecking work.


For more than a century, Britain has had a special warehouse to store the worst examples, safely keeping them away from the workplace. Located in central London, the House of Commons has brought relief to hundreds of businesses over the years.


‘I didn’t realise how much she was pecking at my head,' said Jenny, a sales manager from Wolverhampton. ‘Then she got this ‘job’ as a – get this – Member of Parliament (hashtag made-up-jobs) – and swanned off. It was like a weight being lifted. The company’s doing really well now.'


Sadly, with the rise in access to higher education and crap TV like Love Island, the nation is teeming with useless people, and 650 places is nowhere near enough. Plans are under way to build a second House of Commons to house the useless. Possible sites include Cardiff, Edinburgh and Epping.


Last word goes to ‘Robert’ (his real name), one of the warehoused useless people: ‘We do really vital work here. I like pointing at cartoons and ordering them to be painted over to make children cry, but I also fight crime with a video camera. We’re all in different gangs. My gang’s the best. If I can make enough children cry, then they’ll make me the leader of the gang, and I’ll be able to make speeches on telly instead of Twitter. I don’t miss having a job, this is way better. On Thursdays, we have sponge cake and custard.'



Image credit: Wix AI

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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 . . .



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