Contrary, demanding, lazy, deceitful and parsimonious? And that’s just what your mother thinks of you. But wait, what if we were to add smart, resourceful, enthusiastic, daft and, say, lazy, again?

Behold the Deserter!

Here are 25 clues that you are on the right path.

You know you’re a Deserter when…

You can open a bottle of beer with a lighter.

You can skin up. One-handed.

You are meticulous about not letting websites store your credit card details. Apart from Just Eat.

You know the perfect place to kip on your lunch hour.

You feel aggrieved by the concept of a lunch ‘hour’ and think lunch should, by rights, be extended to the whole of the afternoon. You call it ‘lafternoon’ and feel quite pleased with yourself.

You don’t understand the requirement for, nor have ever owned, a wine stopper.

You know where to buy two pints and still get change from a fiver.

You stare out of your office window at the freezing rain and think, ‘God, I’d love to be out in that’.

You keep a screenshot of the ‘WannaCrypt’ ransomware to display on your work computer whenever you need to bunk off.

Lafternoon

You daydream about motability scooters.

You consider a bag of cans to be a reasonable picnic.

You use the lid of your picnic basket to obscure the Keep off the Grass sign.

You wonder what it would be like to give up your job. Every day.

You have stirred your tea with a potato peeler because it was the last clean thing in your kitchen.

You have walked home barefoot because you threw your shoes up a tree.

You have travelled to France in the boot of a car because your passport expired. 

You sit by the station on your day off just to watch people coming home from work.

You only feel properly alive when you’re breaking a rule.

Have it

You book an escape room with your friends and just lounge about, chatting shit and swigging from Dave’s hip flask.

You have roached your mate’s business card.

Your partner has bought you a rotary four-bottle optics dispenser to fix to the back of a motability scooter, should you acquire one.

You are endorsed for ‘witchfuckery’ on LinkedIn.

You believe that what doesn’t kill you, makes you incrementally weaker and will kill you in the end.

The pub toilet smells like home.

You dance like no-one is watching
You love like you’ve never been hurt
You sing like no-one is listening
But you do like to get a solid eight hours of quality shut-eye

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