This May the nation of Ireland has voted to confirm what many people have believed for years: There’s nothing wrong with homosexuals marrying.
I couldn’t agree with them more. Literally no one cares what you do with your lovelife. If I mustered all the effort I can to try and give a single crap, I would utterly fail. If I had a pound for every crap I gave about what other consenting humans did behind closed doors, I would have the exact same bank balance as I do now because I would be receiving literally £0.
You’re marrying another human? Great. I haven’t had any contact, be it platonic, romantic or sexual, with anyone, be they woman, man, cis, trans, plant, animal or mineral, in months. Even Cortana, the bloody speak & spell that lives in my phone, hasn’t talked to me in ages. I literally could not care less.
Irish campaigners finally win the right to have a gay marriage. Some people are upset about that because their hobbies were homophobia and watching Game of Thrones. Game of Thrones ends in a few weeks so they’re gonna have a drab summer ahead of them.
I am overjoyed that Ireland has legally recognised humans as simply opinionated groups of molecules animated via complex chemical reactions, and that attempting to somehow regulate the non-harmful interactions of these molecules is utterly moronic.
If you are one of those people who are bothered about other people’s orientation, then I kindly invite you to also start being bothered about their dietary options, their choice of socks and the number of times they use the word “mayonnaise” in an average week. Oh and then maybe book a few days off work and take a load of laxatives. Why? Because you clearly have too many craps to give.
Now can someone please get me a Berocca and order me an Efes.
Oh God, what have we done? This is awful. Middle of exams, our traditional Eurovision live blog and we decide to do a bloody lay-up on top of all that. I need a lethal dose of beta blockers just to speak without it coming out as a garbled series of screams. Anyway, the following people will be making jokes intermittently at the expense of our European comrades: Gregory Waddell, resident psychopath and Patrick Bateman impersonator, George Nanidis, Greek still paying debts, Louis Jani, picture man, Tom Davies, The Lemon Press’s creepy uncle, Morgan Barker-Thorne, descendant of racists, Rosa Hansell who shall be communing via. Ouji Board (Morgan), Callum Sharp, biological entity, Alex Lusty, who is impersonating a CEO crossed with West Side Story, Callum Gearing, glorious leader of The Lemon Press and Gabriel Bramley, a drunken waste of space.
So have fun with the brain wrongs and at the same time, ponder if any of the below is nearly racist.
Arrange it near to a political event, such as a vote or manifesto launch, which many students don’t give a shit about.
Claim it’s about a general issue, when really it’s just partisan nonsense.
Claim to represent a minority group, and poorly justify your connection to such group.
Silence genuine criticism about the event, despite event being about democracy.
Take all opposing opinions as personally as possible.
Claim any criticism is about you because we all know you’re so important aren’t you, and all the big nasty students making actual points are only doing them because they’re jealous of you or hold a grudge against you. (BTW, you can just claim any and all criticism is personal and about you, nobody will be bothered to check).
Justify all censorship by claiming other people were mean for not sharing your political opinion.
Be REALLY bad at having good humour, and react to all negative posts about the event like they just denied the Holocaust or something.
Find people you don’t like and ban them, then subtly tell them they’re banned through some vague post on a page you just banned them fro.
Tell anyone who is asking for justification of the event that you already posted it but they’ll have to find it because it’s ‘Really there, honest’.
Be surprised when nobody shows up.
CHECKLIST FOR REACTING TO INFLAMMATORY AND IRRELEVANT UNIVERSITY EVENT
Join the event, despite the fact you have no interest in going and hold moral opposition to it, just so you can piss off some people who don’t necessarily agree with you (and in doing so bolster the number of likes on the page and have the reverse effect you gormless sod).
Claim to be a political expert, despite the fact you probably forgot to register to vote and you thought Lib Dem was a type of cheese.
Claim that you actually agree with the issue raised, just so you can raise some nuanced points about how the event is being handled, like you were taught the one time you went to Debate club in High School.
Act like it is a breach of your democratic rights when an administrator of a Facebook page removes you from said page, despite the terms and conditions of Facebook allowing you to do that.
Write an article decrying that Facebook event for a university magazine to try and have the last laugh, despite that fact that all I’m fucking doing is reminding you it was a thing that happened and therefore making it timeless like Anita Sarkisian or something- Check, check, and triple check.
An increasing section of the student base are now claiming that the situation with Britain’s voting system has become untenable, leading to the notion that it must be shook from the ground up.
“Our country has been plagued by intermittent periods of undemocratic conduct,” said their spokesperson “From 1979 to 1997, 2010 to 2020 and 1970 to 1974, we have been overwrought by an illiberal and unconstitutional force which quashed the people’s voice. I can’t put my finger on it, but there is something about these time spans which are wholly outside of democratic proceedings”.
According to their leading policy developer, they believe that in order to truly reflect the will of the British public, votes must be considered in a completely different manner. A democratic overseer would inspect each ballot and deem them to be democratic and undemocratic, the former being taken into the account and the latter being utterly discounted, the voter traced down and then placed into a re-education camp.
“It’s not so much FPTP we don’t like. It’s losing”.
Join numerous Lemon Press peons as they take you through the general election with various amounts of libel, slander and general shite.
In attendance we have editors Alex Lusty and Gabriel Bramley, with their shills (or deputy ediots) Morgan Barker-Thorne and Callum Sharp. Providing actual commentary (lol jk) we have chair Callum Gearing and Greg Waddell. Rounding out the group we have Former editor Jake Roper and people Rosa Hansell and Louis Jani.
Deputy chair Pasky Miranda will be manning the twitter at https://twitter.com/thelemonpress
As we are what can be tenuously described as a media outlet, we would like to put aside our pride and join the deluge of nauseating sentiment being bleated by our much more esteemed peers. On this historic event, we would like to extend our jubilation to the Duchess of York for giving birth to what only an elite few can jettison out of their genitals: a headline. It is estimated that the headline will receive a fervent, almost fetishistic following; being the longest you can spend gawking at pictures of a child before being placed on the sex offenders register.
The headline was born a healthy 35,700,000 pounds a year of tax payer’s money and has a bright future of state subsidised living ahead of it. It will no doubt go on to attain numerous academic accolades including a 3rd in History of Art at Cambridge, an astonishing feat considering the looming shadow of a 2 century long inbreeding marathon.
On an unrelated note, the headline was twinned with another story bemoaning the audacity of an orphaned, armless homeless child. This rambunctious, morally bankrupt youth was discovered robbing whatever class you happen to belong to blind by scraping the gum under HMRC HQ benches for sustenance. The fucking scrounger.
This will change your life. It will inspire you. It will also make multiple false promises. The Lemon Press has now branched out from mere paper – we have graduated into the confusing and scary world of YouTube.
So, we are proud to present the pilot episode of Newsrind! Enjoy, and may the zest be with you.
On March 22nd a coffin arrived at Leicester Cathedral to a great crowd of black-clad mourners. The body held within? Our glorious nation’s beloved monarch, Elizabeth Windsor, dead at the sprightly young age of 88.
But while we pay our respects and shed our tears we must remain vigilant. Beyond the considerable threat of Charles’ succession, the details of her Majesty’s death simply don’t add up. Where were her doctors in all this; are we expected to believe that she just keeled over on a royal whim? Why, of all places, was the corpse found in a car park in Leicester? If the Queen had died of natural causes, as we are no doubt expected to believe, why was she not sitting comfortably in Buckingham Palace, stroking corgis and eating swans? But the most damning evidence of all has been saved for last. The scientists in charge of analysing the corpse are confirmed to have found a number of knife and sword wounds to her skull that leave no question about it.
Quite simply, we here at the Lemon Press must conclude that our gracious Queen was murdered. God save her soul, for he seems to have let down her body.
I ask you, what sort of society allows its beloved queen to be murdered in cold blood and dumped under the tarmac like some common trade union leader? If you ask me, the blame should be placed at the feet of those damn dirty immigrants. Who else has the work ethic to dig up a car park for the sake of a single murder these days? Charles hasn’t the brainpower and nobody else hates England enough to do the deed! It’s because of these sorts of people, with their turbans and their Polish-ness that we need good, strong intervention to keep troublemakers out of our…
What do you mean the funeral wasn’t for Elizabeth?