Following your pissed-up attempt to impress your mates last night by ordering extremely spicy food that you know perfectly well you can’t digest, it has become clear that Parisian bureaucrats are to blame for your painful acid reflux and intermittent diarrhoea.
A full and sincere apology has been demanded from the French authorities for your cretinous idea that your friends would admire you for eating tear-inducing food, despite most of them growing out of that sort of nonsense in their mid-twenties.
Paris has also been urged to provide a detailed plan about how it was going to prevent you drinking a whole bottle of white wine in the afternoon and not stick to your customary lamb jalfrezi.
Simon Guillaumes, the French official at the Ministere Pour Gérer Ces Abrutis d’Anglais, said that it was regrettable you were feeling queasy after each burp and that your own kids are mocking the stench you leave in the toilet, but France could not shoulder the blame for it.
He went on, “Once again we find ourselves targeted for something that is completely in your own control. We had no say in your decision to order a dish created to give drunk Brummies a challenge after they got bored of fistfights. We had no part in your wife’s pay raise that secretly left you feeling emasculated nor are we responsible for your inability to hold your booze in your forties.
“Every part of the sequence of events that led you to putting a roll of toilet paper in the freezer is British made. From the tear-gas strength of the curry you ordered, to you still relating to your male friends in patterns established in school; it all originated on your side of La Manche.”