Daily Mail anticipating boom in sales as post Brexit toilet paper shortage bites

News in the soft papers and here at the coarse international news media superpower seems likely to finally wake up stubborn leavers to just how crap their position will be in post No Deal Brexit Britain.

“Pinching one off will not be risk free,” our bathroom specialist, Mr White Tiles, advises, “forget the insulin shortages, forget the lack of radioactive materials for medical procedures, or that your heart medication will be in a customs queue from Calais to Reading, it’s those precious rolls of soft, and sometimes scented, paper that you’re really going to miss.”

The advice comes on the back of the revelation that the United Kingdom holds a stockpile of only one roll per citizen, with the rest imported in a just in time sequence from across the ENGLISH Channel day in and day out.

And in what promises to turn all guts to jelly, transport supremo Chris “failing” Grayling is going to be responsible for keeping your bottom wiped.

”The Daily Mail is of course anticipating a boom in sales,” Mr White Tiles continues, “as remainers stock up on the best alternative to rolls of paper in Labrador puppy packaging.”

The Express and The Sun likewise see a massive surge of sewer journalism turning into actual sewerage as the No Deal goal of the multi-billionaire, tax evading Brexiters comes to fruition.

”Laxative suppliers are downbeat though,” our correspondent continues, “the future is not smelling of roses for everyone, in spite of the pre-referendum assurances from walking, talking, permanently clogged human colons such as Fartage and Bum Buxom Boris. With everyone shitting themselves the moment martial law is imposed in April to ensure the cabinet maintains their own supplies of big roll.”

Best advice we can offer is to start stocking up on tabloid journalism now and probably leaves, lots of big leaves.

”Not nettles though,” Mr White Tiles adds, “unless you want to distract yourself for a while from the shit for brains idicoy of Brexit by rubbing the prickly little bastards on your ring.”

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