Heartwarming Royal Movies Show Queen Not Wearing Crown In Spare Time

Mrs W was always joking with chums about cheese rationing

In astonishing home-movie footage to be presented by Prince Charles this evening, his mother’s grovelling subjects will learn that – just like every humble commoner – the Queen generally prefers not to wear a crown on her days off.

The doting public will be delighted to see, for the first time, their unpretentiously egalitarian monarch doing all the mundane things every ordinary 50s wife and mum used to do – lifting her feet obligingly whilst the servants hand-wash the Axminster, filming in the palace gardens with an industry-standard movie camera, and indulgently asking her children: “Who are you?” and “Have you come far?”

In a particularly touching highlight of the priceless archive which reveals just how much times have changed during Her Majesty’s 60-year reign, loyal serfs will be deeply moved to see the young Queen laughing as she pushes Prince Charles out of the frame.

Milburn Strangely Silent On Eton Alumni Seeking Glittering Careers In Call Centres

Puzzled ministers are today rechecking government advisor Alan Milburn’s progress report on social mobility, amidst concerns that a key section on downward mobility may have been inadvertently omitted due to a printing error.

I say, do get those call-time averages down, chaps

“There’s chapter after chapter bemoaning the continued reluctance of employers in the fields of law, medicine and journalism to recruit the brightest chavs directly from their inner-city sink battlezones,” exclaimed baffled employment minister Chris Grayling. “Yet I can’t seem to find a single pie chart showing any rise in public-school entry into the hallowed ranks of cold-calling professionals.”

Mr Milburn is strangely short on detail, too, regarding the number of bankers’ sons and daughters planning a meteoric rise through retail display logistics, cherry-picking the most lucrative apprenticeships in boiler maintenance or rushing to enlist in the infantry.

“I’m quite sure that Mr Milburn must have plenty to say about the main political parties, concerning the tragically ongoing shortage of MPs who have ever done an day’s honest toil in their lives, considering that he used to be a postman himself,” sneered a top Whitehall mandarin. “Perhaps he delivered that bit to the wrong printers.”

‘Sandwich-Board Jobseeker’ Bollocks Celebrates Diamond Jubilee

Millions of cheering British employers took to the streets today to celebrate the 60th anniversary of the Daily Mail’s traditional ‘Desperate Jobseeker Dons Sandwich Board’ story.

60 glorious years

The much-loved national institution – in which the Associated Newspapers group patriotically does its bit for the unemployment figures by hiring an out-of-work drama graduate for a half-hour photoshoot – went walkabout on an M5 slip-road near Bromsgrove, which marks the farthest visit to the north ever made by a serving Mail photographer.

“In these uncertain times of global recession, when competition for jobs is fierce, it’s reassuring to the cunts who read the Mail to fondly imagine that, if they lost their jobs – through no fault of their own, naturally - they, too, would surely win through with the same bulldog spirit personified by our iconic middle-class jobhunter, while the sink-estate dolescum who infest our Jobcentres stuff their guts with KFC buckets in front of The Jeremy Kyle Show,” explained Associated Newspapers’ tormentor-in-chief Paul Dacre. “Times may change, but the time-honoured social hierarchy of unemployment keeps soldiering on. God bless it.”

Elsewhere in the Mail, it was revealed that the government plans to fine editors up to £1.00 if they persist in dumping rubbish all over their pages.

Britain's Class System Explained

Lottery Winners Prove Bourgeoisation Of Britain Project A Success

The reprogramming of the entire British public into small-minded middle-class aspirants, whose sole desire is to possess meaningless consumer objects which will make them the envy of their neighbours – a secret project set in train in 1979 by Margaret Thatcher – is now complete, according to a survey of lottery millionaires published today.

Before the National Lottery, only earls were allowed hot tubs

According to the results, the single possession most winners fondly imagine will finally give their empty lives some kind of purpose is a family-sized bucket of hot swirling water – closely followed by a dedicated room in which they can admire their vast collection of tat bought on a whim from Top Shop.

Other popular purchases of no extrinsic worth included electric gates to save them from the terrible wasted effort of getting out of the car, and a room of its own for the Xbox.

But, hearteningly, the most popular acquisition on the list is not a material thing at all. 30% proudly declared that they had hired a lowly cleaner from their own social background.

“What we really needed more than anythink in our lives, dontchano, was a peasant in the house so’s they can feel insanely jealous of all our tasty stuff, dontchano,” said £1m winner Sammi-Jo Potts, as she jabbed a finger at a wall-sized television and brayed about the decline of traditional British values of thrift and hard work – a ritual which, she firmly believes, occurs daily in the kitchen-cum diner of Buckingham Palace.

Daily Mail Hackette On Suicide Alert After Confessing Shame Of Husband’s Unemployability

A Daily Mail freelancer is being kept under 24-hour suicide surveillance in case she decides she can no longer live with the ignominious humiliation of unemployment in her thoroughly middle-class family, especially after revealing her disgrace to 2,000,000 tutting readers.

“We were once a typical Daily Mail family – comfortable, bit dim, not super-rich,” sobbed ‘Jane Simmonds’ [all names have been changed so the neighbours won’t catch on - shame about the photo] in a heartrending description of the unending squalor of unemployment in the stockbroker belt. “Skiing in February, a nice hotel in Italy or Spain in the summer, just the one Freelander because my useless, freeloading husband can squeeze into my old Micra and bloody well like it until he starts paying his way. Just the bare essentials.”

A DFS sofa - this is the real tragedy of unemployment

Jane’s modest lifestyle suddenly came crashing down around her ears, however, on the fateful day her idiot husband’s bosses decided they might actually get some work done if it wasn’t for him zealously clogging up their inboxes with an endless torrent of meaningless strategic-management bollocks.

“Since Andy was made redundant four years ago now, our income has plummeted,” she moaned, as millions of already-tight sphincters clenched in horror. “No more bijou little boutique visits any more - we just have to slum it in off-the-peg tat from M&S - and Emily, Jack and Lucy have had to learn not to hurl the Wii at the telly every time they lose a game, because hardworking mummy can only afford one replacement Wii or TV a month now.”

The final indignity, however, came when her stupid, proletarian parents tactlessly gave her a cheque to help with the cost of the children’s riding and tennis lessons. “I thought about tearing it up, but they’re so shockingly working-class in their habits that they actually check their statements every month,” she shuddered. “When I handed that cheque over to a spiteful little grinning bank monkey, I burst into floods of tears. It was like being raped, I tell you, just like being raped.”

“Why won’t somebody give my useless husband Andy a job?” she wailed. “He’s got a History degree from Cambridge and one of those MBA things, you know, so he really is super-employable. He’s willing to do absolutely any job I can bear to admit to the appalling snobs next door, although maybe his forte isn’t in personnel management. Since he’s been at home to supervise the cleaner, I swear I’m finding more dust on top of the wardrobe, even though she always pretends to look so hot and flustered whenever I get home a bit early.”

Selfish, Materialistic Society Condemns Selfish, Materialistic Looters

As Britain burns in a lawless orgy of looting, a nation which has spent the last thirty years gleefully constructing a selfish, materialistic, devil-take-the-hindmost hell for itself erupted in fury last night at the selfish, materialistic actions of the hindmost.

“How bloody dare they?” spluttered Marcus Fellows, a Croydon call centre manager, as borough after borough descended into lawless disorder. “I pay 30% of my hard-earned salary so these ungrateful bastards can squat in their opulent council palaces, shooting up with all the horse tranquilisers they can lay their hands on. Look, I paid £650 for this bloody iPad 2 – where’s my comfortable feeling of entitlement gone when every skanky little toerag decides he’s just as entitled to one as me?”

London this morning

Elsewhere, incensed Bristol-based accountant James White spoke for many as he demanded the immediate deployment of riot squads with orders to take down anyone seen wearing brand new trainers.

“What’s called for is the same sort of heavy-handed confrontational policing that I condemned so roundly in December when the students were demonstrating over tuition fees,” he snarled. “While it was unacceptably brutal when my middle-class son Tom was on the sharp end of it, crude violence is obviously the only language the underclass understand.”

His wife Jessica, whose idea of grinding poverty is having to keep a car for three years instead of two, scoffed at the idea that people like her had in any way contributed to the creation of the underclass monster which was suddenly rampaging through Britain’s high streets.

“As Margaret Thatcher said back in the eighties, there is no such thing as society,” she pointed out shrilly. “So don’t you dare try to blame anything on me or I’ll call the police, you murdering communist bastard.”

Educated People Stunned To Learn That Educated People Tend Not To Live In Shitholes

Strangely enough, he doesn't have a master's

Researchers from the University and College Union are astounded by the shock discovery that hardly any of them live in Britain’s urban hellscapes, according to their own survey published today.

The nation’s intelligentsia breathed a collective sigh of relief over their morning papers as they read that they tend to live in nice, leafy areas with all the other well-qualified people, while shallow-pated ape-beasts which can only communicate their basic demands for sex, fast food and housing benefit by rudimentary grunts and thumps continue to infest the nation’s blighted inner-city warzones and Cornwall.

The report’s clever-clogs authors claim to have discovered two Britains: a green and happy place in which nice people like you, who can deploy an apostrophe with deadly accuracy and earn a salary, access the internet with laptop computers; and a concrete battlefield filled with the gibbering refuse of a rapidly-shrinking gene pool, creatures which have only recently begun to migrate from their Playstations to the internet by randomly pressing buttons on their smartphones until a social networking site obligingly appears.

“The recent invasion of Facebook and Twitter by belligerent monkey-men portends a bleak future in which the few remaining bastions of civilisation are overrun and torn to the ground by the mongrel hordes, unless we act now to ring the nation’s council estates with high walls and gun towers,” warned lead researcher Dr Mark Strangelove ominously. “Until then, guys, see you on Google+.”

That TUC Report On The Rich-Poor Divide In Full

The Livelihood Crisis - by Richard A. Whiting, Gus Kahn & Ray Egan

Bill collectors gather round and rather haunt the cottage next door - men the grocer and butcher sent, men who call for the rent. But within, a happy chappy and his bride of only a year seem to be so cheerful. Here's an earful of the chatter you hear: “Ev'ry morning, ev'ry evening - ain't we got fun! Not much money, oh, but honey, ain't we got fun! The rent's unpaid, dear, we haven't a bus - but smiles were made, dear, for people like us. In the winter, in the summer - don't we have fun! Times are bum and getting bummer - still we have fun! There's nothing surer - the rich get rich and the poor get children! In the meantime, in between time - ain't we got fun!”

Let them eat Strictly Come Dancing

Just to make their trouble nearly double, something happened last night. To their chimney a gray bird came - Mr Stork is his name - and I'll bet two pins, a pair of twins just happened in with the bird. Still they're very gay and merry - just at dawning I heard: “Ev'ry morning, ev'ry evening, don't we have fun? Twins and cares, dear, come in pairs, dear. Don't we have fun! We've only started as momma and pop. Are we downhearted? I'll say that we're not! Landlord’s mad and getting madder - ain't we got fun? Times are so bad and getting badder – still, we have fun. There's nothing surer - the rich get rich and the poor get laid off. In the meantime, in between time - ain't we got fun?”

When the man who sold them carpets told them he would take them away, they said, “Wonderful, here's our chance! Take them up and we'll dance!”

And when burglars came and robbed them, taking all their silver, they say hubby yelled, "We're famous, for they'll name us in the papers today! Night or daytime - it's all playtime! Ain't we got fun! Hot or cold days, any old days - ain't we got fun! If wifey wishes to go to a play, don't wash the dishes - just throw them away!”

“Streetcar seats are awful narrow - ain't we got fun! They won't smash up our Pierce-Arrow - we ain't got none! They've cut my wages, but my income tax will be so much smaller! When I'm laid off, I'll be paid off - ain't we got fun!”

Universities Promise Hooray Henries A Ready Pool Of Servants

Britain’s snobbier universities - including Oxford and Cambridge, obviously – assured well-heeled parents that their establishments were already overflowing with cash-strapped scions of the shopkeeping class, guaranteeing that there would be no servant problem greeting their guffawing heirs when they are ushered out of the Rolls brandishing their Coutts cheque books.

“For many gifted state-school oiks, being a gentleman’s gentleman for three years is the only job they will ever get a crack at,” smiled universities minister David Willetts. “And if your agreeable trust fund is happy to pay them £9,000 a year, you can enjoy watching them fight tooth and nail as they queue up to be interviewed.”

Burn the ironic t-shirt, slap on the Brylcreem and they scrub up OK

Gonville Bromhead, a spokesman for the Russell Group of universities, which are better because they got their charter from a medieval inbred, added: “£9,000 is more than they’re worth, naturally, but it does rather ensure that one’s man will have been brought up to speak the Queen’s English, what? A lot of them are jolly brainy, too, and will gladly sit one’s bothersome exams if threatened with a damned good hiding.”

“Less than £9,000, though, and one runs the risk of getting some ghastly northern bursary claimant who grunts like one’s head gardener,” he warned, “And that would be quite, quite beyond the pale, old boy. Goes without saying.”

In the modern world of academe, of course, female domestic staff are also widely available for hire at Britain’s top educational establishments.

“Not only can your horse-faced daughter have the lady-in-waiting she’s always longed for,” beamed Mr Willetts over a Pimms, “But your lusty heir can sow his wild oats with the servants to his heart’s content, then simply pay to have his scullery-maids’ unborn bastards dealt with in the time-honoured fashion – namely, by paying one of the world’s top medical researchers to warm up the old coat-hangar.”

Later, prime minister David Cameron moved swiftly to fend off criticism that any chancer with a bulging wallet could exploit the two-tier system he was creating.

“My goodness, no. This scheme isn’t for the oafish sons and daughters of money-grubbing tradespeople from the provinces being able to buy their way into university,” he laughed. “They can carry on going to Exeter. Students on these extra places will not be funded by wealthy individuals. No, their funding will come either from businesses, such as the banks of which their daddies are directors, or from charitable foundations, i.e. their trust funds.”

Nick Clegg, meanwhile, has announced that he has grave misgivings.

Middle Classes Not Best Pleased At Prospect Of Joining Ranks Of Workshy Scroungers

"What? I have to come to you?"

Britain’s chattering classes will soon be experiencing at first hand the delights of Jobcentreplus, according to Ken Clarke. The justice secretary made his unwelcome boast today in the Daily Telegraph, striking terror into the ice-cold hearts of Middle England.

“I’ve spent most of 2010 crowing about how all those feckless unemployed skivers richly deserve to have the work ethic rammed into them by being forcibly enlisted into demeaning manual labour schemes just to keep their miserable benefits,” howled Jessica Tweigh, a pinch-mouthed harridan from Sussex who works as a buyer in the fashion industry. “How dare that silly man insinuate that I shall be on the receiving end of the same harsh treatment before the year is out? Obviously it should only apply to people who live on council estates, or north of Watford.”

“Not that I’m in any danger of losing my job, of course,” she snapped. “What nonsense. Why, all my friends and neighbours simply have to replace their entire wardrobe on a fortnightly basis.”

“But if I should, of course, I shall expect better treatment that the scum,” she added. “Just in case, I’m drawing up a list of demands which I would present to the little Jobcentre monkey. First of all, they’ll have to ring weeks in advance to make any appointments. Secondly, I’d appreciate it if they could meet me for a power lunch – of course, I’ll expect them to pick up the bill. Thirdly, I shall demand an expense account; after all, they can hardly expect me to pay the running costs of driving a 4x4 all over the south east for interviews, can they? Obviously, they’ll be keeping up the monthly payments on it as well. And I can hardly turn up for an interview in the same outfit I wore to the previous one, can I? It’ll have creases in it.”

“Finally, Jobseeker’s Allowance simply won’t do,” she fumed. “It might seem like a king’s ransom to some breeder slut from Brighton, but it would barely cover one dinner party a fortnight, and I’ll need to keep those up for networking purposes. I’ll open negotiations at £1000 a week; I’m prepared to haggle down to £750 if it’s absolutely necessary, but that’s as far as I’ll go.”

“Of course, if Julian should lose his job too, I shall expect quite a bit more,” she added tartly.

The local Jobcentreplus, meanwhile, said they were eagerly looking forward to dealing with Ms. Tweigh.

“I gather that this lady has extensive experience in the retail sector,” said an advisor. “That’s good. There’s always quite a high turnover of staff in the stockroom at Argos.”

But Your Readers Are Middle Class, Government Tells Writers

The government has responded to criticism by some of Britain’s leading writers of its decision to pull £13m of funding from a children’s literacy charity by pointing out that their readers are all middle class and can probably afford to cough up the readies for a book or two a year.

"To put a gift of books into the hands of newborn children and their parents is to help open the door into the great treasury of reading, which is the inheritance of every one of us, and the only road to improvement and development and intellectual delight in every field of life,” complained middle-class children’s author Philip Pullman, while Andrew Motion - who used to write lah-di-dah poetry for the Queen - came out with some airy-fairy effort that didn’t even rhyme

"In these difficult economic times, ministers have to take tough decisions on spending," said a bored spokesman at the Department for Education who was manning the phones over the Christmas break. “And, as usual, they have decided the underclass can take the hit. After all, if the scum can’t read and write, they’ll have a bit of a job claiming benefit. Anyway, all they do with books is draw cocks all over them before tearing them up to make roaches so they can get stoned.”

Rich bastard, Young Conservative, dying peasant - it's the perfect Christmas

“I was fascinated, in the run-up to Christmas, to watch Ian Hislop’s illuminating three-part documentary on BBC2 about the Victorian do-gooders,” explained bloated prime minister David Cameron, as a manservant cleared away the vast quantity of leftovers from last night’s five-course Christmas banquet. “For any Tory, it was a bit like watching a ready-made hit list of all the great reforms that need undoing.”

“It’s understandable, with the French Revolution still fresh in everybody’s minds, why the ruling classes of the day might have felt it necessary to throw a few scraps to the great unwashed,” he admitted, “But now they’re all safely pacified with reality TV, soccer and lager, there’s simply no need for all that rubbish any more. It’s just the middle classes, like the bloody students, that we have to keep sweet.”

“The lower orders used to bump along just fine without literacy, morals, healthcare, rights or freedom before,” he insisted. “I’m sure they can manage again. And I’ll tell you another thing - back in those days, they bloody well knew their place.”

“By the way, did everybody see Doctor Who?” he added with a belch, waving a glazed leg of lamb at his webcam. “In a way that’s just what my Big Society is all about – interfering know-alls taking it upon themselves to make things better for their friends and the rich without wasting a second’s thought on the underlying issues of poverty and ill-health, And if poor people have to die needlessly, well, too bad. That’s what they’re there for.”

Top-Fee Universities Must Show Poor Kids What They Will Miss, Insists Willetts

Make sure they see the sailing club facilities, urges minister

Universities which charge the full £9000 annual tuition fee must show schoolchildren from poor areas the facilities that their middle-class counterparts will go on to enjoy, insisted universities minister David Willetts.

“I am sure that wealthy students will be more than happy to see a third of their tuition fees spent on putting young underclass oiks firmly in their place by inviting them to ‘summer schools’ and showing them all the university facilities which they can never hope to afford to use,” announced the minister.

“In order to justify the top rate of fees, universities will be particularly expected to draw the attention of the poor to the wide range of extra-curricular activities available to the sons and daughters of the privileged, such as top-class sporting facilities,” he added. “This will remind them that, with luxury housing now occupying their former council grounds, the only sporting facility they will ever get to use is the car park in front of their disgusting council flats.”

The Russell Group of proper university chancellors, meanwhile, responded by rubbing their hands together with glee and announcing that all lecturers would be taught to speak Chinese.

‘Hey Up, It Happens That I’m Ever So Working Class By Gum,’ Announces Miliband Two

'And why is this Nora person  flipping?'

The long-forgotten contest for the leadership of what’s left of the Labour Party struggled back into the news today, as Miliband Two roundly denounced the New Labour movement in which he was happy to bask for thirteen years and revealed himself as a grimy, calloused labourer who was the natural representative of millions of ordinary working-class people.

“By heck, we lost five million voters by sucking up to toffee-nosed people like ourselves,” admitted the lesser of two clones, newly respendent in his exquisitely-tailored cloth cap and silk braces. “So it’s time for me to reveal my true roots as a genuine horny-handed son of a lowly Oxford don. Unlike my posh brother, obviously.”

“Myself, I love nothing better after a hard day’s toil than to relax before the television with a foaming tankard of Cabernet Sauvignon and enjoy a right corking game of footer, “he added. “Come along now, you red chaps.”

Cameron Reveals Tragic Speech Impediment

Prime minister David Cameron revealed today that he suffers from a terrible speech disorder which prevents him from pronouncing the first letter of pronouns beginning with the letter Y.

Whilst dropping vague hints about how the coalition government might tackle Britain’s towering deficit mountain if it thinks it can get away with it, Mr Cameron seemed to be telling the nation that his plans for cuts in pay, pensions and benefits would be “unavoidably tough” and “affect our whole way of life.”

Fortunately, Deputy PM Nick Clegg was on hand to correct Mr Cameron, as he was taking time out from his really important mission to draw coloured lines in crayon on a dog-eared AA Map of the British Isles.

“I think what my best friend Dave is trying to say is that his cuts will affect your way of life,” he explained, to vigorous nods and thumbs-up from the prime minister.

Downing Street later issued a statement from the Prime Minister, confirming that he has had this speech defect since childhood, often leaving his parents tearing their hair out in frustration at their son’s apparent self-identification with the perfectly ghastly oiks who comprise the bulk of the population.

“It was only when I married into the upper class that they were finally reassured that I wasn’t some kind of filthy communist, selling the Socialist Worker to my chums in the Bullingdon Club,” he added. “Especially when I told them that my best friend was called Boris.”

Labour Minister Pledges To End Scourge of Prejudice Against Chavscum and Fat Cat Bankers Forever

Communities secretary John Denseham sensationally brought down the old barriers dividing rich and poor today, with a heartwarming speech in which he declared the battle against racism officially over and announced Labour's ground-breaking, vote-catching plans to eradicate discrimination against chavs and bankers forever.

"Every darky in Britain kin naa fack orf back to woreva they cam frum an' let aw them uvva terrorist canniboes in their tribes know that racial discrimination in Britain is a fing uv the past so dan't bovver camin' over 'ere to fight it no maw innit," he declared, to cheers from all parties.

Mr Denseham then went on to announce that the biggest threat to harmony in Britain today was the age-old iniquity of class prejudice.

"Them middle-class wankas, they hates aw you poor hardworkin' white doleys on yer cancel estates, wiv ya Burberry clogs an' ya six nippas an' ya K-reg Astras wiv da fackorf big twin exorst an' the full body kit," he warned as he launched a review on race policy which is expected to report just in time for the election. "We'll look aht faw ya, naa giz ya votes."

Quickly whipping off his hoody top to reveal an Armani suit, Mr Denseham continued: "And the same cruel injustice can be fairly said to apply, in equal measure, to the tiny, beleaguered banking community who have so enriched our lives whilst eking out a humble living for themselves on our shores. Middle England is, even as I speak, whipping itself up into a threnody of murderous hate - cynically orchestrated by odious, scaremongering rags such as the Guardian and the Independent."

"Now, if you wouldn't mind reaching for your shareholders' wallets, we have the small matter of a £50m election campaign to bankroll," he added.

General Election Must Not Descend Into Hideous Class War - Crikey No, Warns Privately-Educated Tessa Jowell

Olympics Minister Tessa Jowell today told the Sunday Telegraph that Labour's election campaign must not be fought by attacking candidates' social backgrounds, in an implicit criticism of the prime minister's recent scathing comments about David Cameron's privileged Eton background.

"You know, there really is nothing much to be gained from close scrutiny of the social class of Britain's parliamentarians," insisted the old girl of the exclusive St Margaret's School for Girls, Aberdeen. "Frankly, I think it's just jealousy. This sort of thing really only matters in the impoverished imaginations of silly little proletarian oiks with massive chips on their shoulders who have nothing to offer the British public."

"No offence, Gordon," she added. "It's not your fault you didn't have the advantage of a good, rounded education."

Justice Secretary Jack Straw, an alumnus of fee-paying Brentwood School, has already played down the idea that the privately-educated may somehow have little in common with the majority of British voters.

"Believe me, I know better than anybody what it's like to struggle to keep up in the rat-race," he insisted. "In a competitive streaming system, getting a 'Must try harder' for Latin was a clear shot across the bows which left me in no doubt that I could all too easily wind up as one of life's losers in class IIIC, at the very bottom of the heap."

58 other Labour MPs whose comfortable-perhaps-but-hardly-rich parents kindly saved the taxpayer a few bob by sending them to public schools were quick to echo Ms Jowell's egalitarian sentiments, in a joint statement sent to the Nev Filter (Old Plymothian & Mannameadian '74-'81).

Don't Let Educated People Ruin Everything, Warns PM

A baying proletarian mob has surrounded top public school Eton, armed with firebrands, after prime minister Gordon Brown yesterday urged the nation to join him in a class war on public schools.

"The Right Honourable Leader of the Opposition is an overprivileged bag of horseshit," shouted the PM yesterday. "He went to Eton, which by definition makes him an enemy of the people. I urge the British public to twat him on sight."

"Public schools are nothing more or less than toff factories, churning out an endless stream of hardline Conservative upper-class twits who scoff quail's eggs and quaff champagne in their clubs as they brag to each other about how much they hate the working classes," he continued. "Need I give examples? Oh, all right then: Tam Dalyell, Ed Balls, Tony and Hilary Benn, Tony Blair, Stephen Byers, Charles Clarke, Ann Clywd, Alistair Darling, Michael Foot, Harriet Harman, Margaret Hodge, Geoff Hoon, Tessa Jowell, Ruth Kelly, Bob Marshall-Andrews, George Orwell, James Purnell and Keith Vaz."

"Whatever you do, don't trust these toffee-nosed Tories with the running of the country just because they know how to read," urged the grammar-school oik of a prime minister. "Educated people are smarmy know-alls who love to make you feel stupid. Just look at Eggheads on BBC2. Don't you just want to smash your fist into their smug faces? Trust me, you need some ignorant, semi-literate, pig-headed man of the people who thinks he knows a lot more than he does in the driving seat."

Other overprivileged, chinless bastards who have no concept of what it is like to be you include Bear Grylls, Adam & Joe, Helena Bonham-Carter, Peter Gabriel, John McCririck, Hugh Laurie, Robyn Hitchcock, Jeremy Paxman, Adam Hart-Davis, and me.

Indifference Mounting For Insufferable Yachtie Pricks Seized By Iran

Britain is to tell Iran that it is more than welcome to keep five insufferable pricks and their toy sailing boat, but warn the Middle Eastern rogue state that in future it might want to restrict its hostage-taking activities to yachts without sails.

"We recognise that, as a pariah state, Iran is desperate to win friends," said a spokesman for the Foreign and Commonwealth Office today. "Certainly, the detention of five self-satisfied, tanned bastards - whose lives are so peachy they can afford to swan around in some so-called 'race' nobody would otherwise have ever heard of - will win Iran plenty of new friends in the lengthening dole queues of Britain, where people are having to decide between putting the heating on for an hour or boiling the kettle for a cup of tea."

"Smugly insulated from the sufferings of their compatriots as these yachtie twerps are, though, if President Ahmedinejad really wants to get the British people waving his posters in the streets, he ought to be sending his Revolutionary Guard dinghies to put a couple of torpedoes into the floating gin palaces operated by our major financial institutions," he continued. "And, frankly, if Lord Mandelson happened to be aboard at the time, the cheering would be heard all the way to Tehran."

"Or perhaps they could mount a seaborne invasion of Sark," he added. "If Iran wants to seize the Barclay brothers, I'm sure the Admiralty has charts and tide tables that would help enormously."

Britain Uncovers Previously-Unsuspected 'Class System'

British society was rocked to its very foundations today by the discovery of a 'class system', in which people's future prospects are seemingly mapped out by the circumstances into which they are born.

In a report on social mobility published today, entitled Fair Access To The Professions, former minister Alan Milburn claims to have discovered shocking evidence that few - in fact, none - of the top professions are dominated by people born on inner-city council estates, whose siblings all had different surnames.

"I know many people will fall off their chairs on hearing about this," said Mr Milburn, "But it really does seem that the majority of Britain's top judges, doctors, lawyers, bankers and journalists come from the Home Counties, had wealthy professional parents, were privately educated and went to a proper university. Not only that, but the nation's worst check-out operatives, refuse collectors, squaddies, fast-food vendors, long-term doleys and repeat offenders seem to come from the North of England, Newport or Glasgow."

"Perhaps it's something to do with the water?" he speculated. "Because I'm pretty sure it can't be connected in any way to forty years of political interference in the education system."

Mr Milburn went on to say that the only certain way to guarantee a fair and level playing field for all children, regardless of background, is more political interference in the education system.