Can it be right that North London parents are happily smoking dope with their teenagers at home?

I’m sorry but those three little words make me so furious I can barely think straight – nothing to do with inhaling that foot-long doobie over my Weetabix.

No, it’s not “happily smoking dope” that annoys me, it’s the dread phrase “North London parents”, which is shorthand for “smug, condescending parlour pinkos who feel the normal rules don’t apply to them”.

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