Mr Hunt has solved the problem of Doctor Junior’s going on strike. You don’t need to see a doctor anyway. If you feel ill, from now on, simply pop along the High Street and go and see Mr Boots the pharmacist. Hey presto, out comes the Nurofen and you’re cured, with no queues and no waiting time.
Well done, Mr Hunt, this whole thing had been giving me a headache, which Mr Boots instantly diagnosed and cured by selling me some haemorrhoid ointment to put on my elbow. So the new system works perfectly – I’m happy and Mr Boots makes ‘piles’ of cash! (Enough Finksterrhoid, take a week off, you’re sick!)
In This Issue
Royal 90th Birthday Gnomemart… Don’t Put Hard-Fought Austerity at Risk, pleads Osborne…
The Big Bumper President Erdogan Joke Book… Prince William Confronts Work-Shy BBC Royal Corr Nicholas Witchell…
Fresh Sightings of Maddie Stories ‘Give Hope’ to Daily Express Editors… Arianna Huffington: The Sleep Revolution, as told to Craig Brown
- Deepcut: Full report on the inquest into the death of army recruit Cheryl James.
- BVI update: Why the pledge to learn who owns what offshore is a charade.
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