The Archbishop of Canterbury on… Clarkson, shaming the unemployed with his bullshit jobs

WAKING with a hangover so dehydrating my brain has shrunk to the size of a small artichoke, I consume six gallons of citrus-infused water and receive my first visitors of the day. 

They announce themselves as Sam Fender and Olivia Dean and are requesting a special one-off concert at Westminster Abbey. They claim that they have been number one for many weeks and play me their supposed hit single. 

‘I have never heard of you and this is the worst fucking haystack of nondescript bilge I have heard since fucking Mull Of Kintyre,’ I say.

Affronted, they try to back up their claims via Google but my internet is currently down. They suggest that as an Archbishop I might not be au fait with the hit parade, so I summon four of my junior clerks and they also say they have never heard of this song. 

I open my window to the street and call up a dozen youths. None have heard of them, or the song either. I call the police to have these frauds ejected. The young officers confirm that they have no idea who this pair are and have never heard this alleged song. 

As the con artists are taken into custody on a charge of attempting to deceive a man of the cloth I take a light breakfast and peruse a periodical. Therein, I read that Rod Liddle, described by one journal as the ‘greatest satirist since Jonathan Swift’, has died aged 66.

Well, it’s like the saying goes: ‘If you can’t say anything nice about someone then it’s probably because they spent their shitsack lives being nasty, poisonous fucking bastards.’ Rod certainly delivered on that score by being a racist, transphobic, misogynistic, always-punching-down piece of shit the world is best rid of. As for the obituaries, talk about polishing a turd and making out it was a fucking Henry Moore sculpture! I don’t see much praise for his ‘satire’ about not shagging Harriet Harman unless he was pissed – because she’s ugly you see, hahaha! Yeah, Jonathan Swift would have been fucking proud of that one!

Jeremy Clarkson has written that benefits claimants should write weekly thank you letters to taxpayers detailing how they spend their money, also comparing them to dogs but supposedly less grateful.

Well, of course you did, because your mouth and all that proceeds from it is a constant stream of fucking brown effluent like that being being pumped daily into our waterways! People on ‘benefits’ as they are laughingly called happen to include a vast number in work but so poorly paid so they need help from the state, something a drawling piece of cunt like you would never bother to understand! And you’re not in a position to criticise when your own wholly unnecessary employment is ‘running’ a pretend TV farm and churning out fucking bollocks for a handful of Times readers!

Nigel Farage has proposed a scheme whereby a Reform UK government would deploy the Royal Navy to stop incoming boats of migrants.

Haha, the only fucking thing the Royal Navy might need to do is dredge up the remains of your political prospects from the fucking seabed! Even the right-wing press who previously turned a blind eye to your grifting fucking criminality are turning on you, and you’re fucked without their constant propaganda! Shite like this is supposed to distract from the ongoing investigation into your fucking £5 million ‘donation’, isn’t it? But you’re fucking toast and this time next year you’ll be joining Liz Truss on the far-right American lecture circuit sniffing around for fucking crumbs! 

Finally, Kemi Badenoch has faced criticism for offering an advisory role to Joshua Bonehill-Paine, a former neo-Nazi activist convicted of harassing a Jewish Labour MP, after he withdrew as a local council candidate.

I don’t know what the fuck you think you are doing, Kemi, but please, please, carry on! Shovel load by shovel load, you are fucking burying the Conservative party, in a grave next to that of the fucking Whigs! You’re straining every sinew to have a fucking convicted neo-Nazi included in your ludicrous, laughable hellshow of a Tory party! You are the fucking embodiment of the political right in its final, writhing death throes! Are you so trapped in your own fucking dismal bubble you don’t realise Hitler isn’t that popular with voters? Fuck!

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Your astrological week ahead for August 1st, with Psychic Bob

Aries, March 21st–April 19th

After a trip to the beach, be the big man and admit Anakin Skywalker was right.

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th

The Welsh have no one to blame but themselves for their drought. They should have saved some of the water from when it pissed down 24/7 during all your childhood holidays in Llandudno.

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st

Is there any reason in the Marvel Universe why Spider-Man can’t use a flying hoverboard like the Green Goblin and take the most direct route instead of pissing around with webs?

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd

You’re having difficulty getting your head round polyamorous relationships. Wouldn’t you mostly shag the hottest one? It would be really obvious you were only doing the less attractive ones for a bit of variety.

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd

That sign saying ‘Watch for falling rocks’ was a boring waste of a weekend.

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd

Sadly ‘Yorkie – it’s not for girls’ is predicated on the idea that eating a modestly sized chocolate bar is manly and tough. You can’t see these delicate truck drivers lasting long in the Royal Marines.

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd

Really impress guests at your barbecue this weekend by cooking a baked Alaska.

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 21st

For God’s sake stop oversharing your tedious relationship dramas. Put them in inexplicably popular hit songs and million-selling albums instead. 

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st

Save time worrying unnecessarily about what to wear by going out with Kanye West.

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th

‘I’d like to offer you a position – permanently disabled!’ says Jason Statham in one of his films. Maybe Shakespeare could have written quotable lines like that if he’d been more open to the Transporter franchise.

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th

Don’t pigeonhole yourself as a cat person or a dog person. Throw a Honduran White Bat in there like the free thinker you are.

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th 

Inject some blockbuster movie excitement into your fortnightly Jobcentre Plus interview by shouting ‘I didn’t sign on for this shit!’.