A combination of the trauma of Brexit and the heatwave currently being experienced by Dalston has led residents of the borough to unconsciously take on the characteristics of our continental neighbours.
Sales of Vermouth and big round sunglasses soared as Dalstonians left the workplace en masse yesterday claiming their right to operate according to French 28-hour working week rules. Many workers are now paying tax at the traditional Greek rate of 0% and almost everybody is on maternity leave. Even the men. Except for those on strike. Which is everybody.
The last 24-hours have seen parts of the borough report a ten-fold increase in the number of people injured by extravagant hand gestures, and one woman is undergoing an emergency buttock transplant after being told ‘ciao, Bella‘ and having her bottom pinched over 3000 times yesterday. The borough’s buttock stocks are said to be running ‘dangerously low’.
Levels of ‘whackings’, ‘vendettas’ and ‘honour killings’ are at an all time high, as are dismembered horses’ heads found in beds and the number of old men eating poisoned cannoli while listening to opera.
An area of London Fields has been taken over by sun-crazed locals and declared a naturist reserve. In the time-honoured French tradition, ‘a naturist reserve’ is a thin euphemism for ‘place to have al fresco rumpy with other people’s wives’. The Dalston police have asserted that: ‘Having it off in a park is illegal no matter how bloody foreign you are, and this disgusting practice is completely banned unless we’re allowed to watch’.
While the Mediterranean nations are well represented among sufferers of this seasonal disorder, observers have noted that, remarkably, almost no-one has opted to become German, which would involve working hard, maintaining disciplined fiscal practices and manufacturing excellent motor vehicles for export to the most lucrative international markets. But maybe it’s the Currywurst and stupid haircuts that put people off.