Editor Paul Dacre is leaving the Daily Mail after 26 years. When he started, the tabloid was merely dreadful. Now it’s so vile that a copy of the newspaper left by itself will eventually dissolve under the acidity of its own content.
What’s not so well known is that Dacre is actually quite literally a devil. And now that he’s fucked up the UK as much as possible, Dacre has decided to retire. Namely to a lovely little cottage in the southern region of hell.
Burn baby, burn
Location, Location, Location recently visited the region of hell where Dacre will be living. It’s a rather charming area populated by the absolute worst of Britain, and Dacre’s neighbours will include:
- Dr Harold Shipman.
- Margaret “the milk snatcher” Thatcher.
- Henry VIII.
- Enoch Powell.
- The woman who put a cat in a bin.
- Oswald Mosley.
- Tony Blair (still technically alive, but dead on the inside following his arrangement to sell his soul for friendship with celebrity moron George W. Bush).
- The guy who wrote the Crazy Frog song.
In memory
If there’s one thing people will remember Dacre for, it’s the many disgusting things his rag of a fucking newspaper did. It’s not often you can genuinely say that time travel should be invented just to stop someone before they get started, but Dacre is one of those instances.
Which isn’t to say Dacre shouldn’t look forward to his time in hell, obviously. We’re all hoping he gets to spend a long time there.
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