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IS your penis living in the present moment? Is your pussy on the path to spiritual enlightenment? Have your nipples achieved nirvana?

You’re shaken to discover that Stella McCartney is a nepo baby. Who next? Surely not Sean Lennon?

WAKING with something of a morning head, possibly due to the cold snap, I also find myself projecting frequent plumes of brightly coloured vomit. I had partaken of shots.

I HAD no idea being leader of the opposition, with a date in Downing Street later this year, would mean cancelling so many sex parties.

ASK me, all that Islamic terrorism was jealousy. They can’t drink, they can’t eat pork, and their birds can’t wear bikinis. No wonder they’re furious.

SLIGHT nip in the air? Warnings of frost? Then kit yourself out in five grand of outdoor gear best suited for Everest base camp and parade down Thetford high street!

ONE of the 20th century’s most dominant and divisive figures, Karl Marx’s work shaped hundreds of millions of lives. Which makes it all the more suprising it began over a biscuit.

All dogs go to heaven. All cats go to hell. Guinea pigs end up in an endless squeaking purgatory.

WAKING and recovering from a temporary alcohol-induced loss of eyesight, I am astonished to espy two police officers and a fellow in a mitre, the spitting image of myself, standing by my bed.

SO Rishi has called an election in precisely six to 11 months. I smell a landslide Tory victory in the air, or it might just be the £450 panini press I got for Christmas.