Premium

FAM! Early dis week a bruv bangs hinto Active J on him’s way to da hastroturf at break wiv mandem crew, an’ starts dissin’ man habout bein’ a fake roadman. You wot, bruv?

A DARK cloud is rolling across Europe. We may not see it lit af again in our lifetimes.

As humans we have collectively decided: when woodland society inevitably organises, badgers will be the police.

WAKING up with a hangover whose throbbing is so intense it disrupts satnav systems across central London, I take a sip of water and reflect on another momentous week. 

I DON’T know if anyone will ever read this. But if you do, PLEASE send help. I'm hiding in the pantry of the house Meghan pretends to live in. And I can't get out.

CAN fat fetishist Joshua Hudson, aged 31, persuade 28-year-old Sophie Rodriguez they’d have more fun if she was two ton?

Oh great. Now my f**king robot hoover’s eloped with Sir Killalot.

WAKING with a hangover whose vibrations are so intense they are causing dogs half a mile away bark to incessantly, I review the events of the week, including my decision to become a ‘tech bro’.

IN last week’s and multiple previous columns I have described Trump as our one true Caesar and the saviour of freedom. That stands, but with a few notes.

YOU’VE curated your dating profile to give an entirely inaccurate impression. These are the entirely accurate conclusions everyone draws in one glance.