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WAKING with a hangover so excruciating I vomit up chunks of my liver which unfortunately my dog snaffles before I can retrieve them, I reflect on an encounter earlier this year with Liz Truss.

TUCKED away in the picturesque town of Laglio in Lombardy, George Clooney’s mansion boasts a swimming pool, tennis court and patchy CCTV coverage that allowed us to dig under his fence with ease.

NOW the sacred feast of Cyber Monday is over, we’re fast approaching Boxing Day sales eve, or to use its preferred pronoun, ‘Christmas’.

Sales are down. Debts are spiralling. Funko Pop! may soon no longer exist as a going concern. Lads, it’s time to do the Nazis.

WAKING with a hangover so searing I have to call the fire brigade and have them direct a hose at full blast directly into my mouth for ten minutes in order to rehydrate, I reflect on the past week. 

HE pretended he wasn’t interested. ‘Brexit?’ he said, disingenuously, ‘Why on earth should I stage an entire election just to sexually violate that?’

HANNAH Tomlinson, aged 36, has a Daddy fetish. 50-year-old Martin Bishop has two adult daughters and a practical car. Is he what she’s looking for?

Did you know, Dolly Parton wrote Jolene and was cloned into a sheep on the very same day.

WAKING with a hangover so intense I am able to conduct full body X-rays when I look in the mirror, I gargle a restorative and reflect on a week of immense theological significance.

I CAN'T be arsed with Christmas. All that fuss and build-up then it costs a shitting fortune and is over in a flash, like when I pay for sex. Plus the pubs only open for lunchtime, which is cruel to blokes with families.