The Archbishop of Canterbury on... going without a shit for three days to see f**king Coldplay

WAKING up in a puddle of very stale vomit, possibly mine, possibly Gloria Hunniford’s, I look back fondly on a several-month-long alcoholic ‘binge’. My complete absence from public life prompted concerns about my health, but these I assuaged by issuing a photograph of myself in my briefs, clearly in the rudest of health. 

A furore immediately erupted; I had clearly ‘photoshopped’ my head onto the body of Mr Arnold Schwarzenegger, circa 1975 and his Pumping Iron period. This was a calumny, of course. I arranged a press conference in which I appeared, minus cassock, in my underpants, impressing one and all with my deceptively rippling, muscular physique and bulging tighty whities. 

One requires a body of steel to go drink for drink with Gloria Hunniford, as indeed I did last night. I dust myself down, repair to my chambers, and peruse a periodical. Therein I read that Tory donor Frank Hester commented that Diane Abbott made him ‘want to hate all black women’. He was condemned by numerous MPs, including Labour’s Jess Phillips.

Fuck’s sake, of course Hester’s gonna turn out to be a complete, copper-bottomed bigot behind closed doors – he donates money to the fucking Tory party. But clock the hypocrites in Abbott’s own party! Jess Phillips, bragging about how she once told Abbott to fuck off. Or that hapless fucking fugitive from a Last of the Summer Wine reboot, Lindsay Hoyle. Forty-six times she tried to speak in a debate about herself! Get your arse off that fucking woolsack, put yourself in a bathtub and roll yourself down the hill into a fucking canal, you useless old twat!

Meanwhile, while acknowledging that Hester’s remarks were ‘unacceptable’ without specifying why, senior Tories have rejected suggestions that they return his ten million pounds. Michael Gove has said that Hester’s remarks were not ‘extremist’, and that he deserves ‘Christian forgiveness’. 

Well, I’m the chief fucking Christian in this country if you discount the fucking left footers and here’s what I say: he deserves to be poked hard in the bollocks with a sharp fucking stick! I daresay his remarks aren’t extreme in the community of cocks you circulate in, Gove, but no, definitely keep the money. You Tories couldn’t bear to part with 50 quid even if it was donated by fucking Himmler, could you, you evil, avaricious fuckfaces?

The Glastonbury line-up has been announced; among those headlining are those noted paragons of white music Coldplay.

Well suck my donkey’s cock and spit the semen in a rusty fucking bucket. Coldplay? They’re still fucking going? They didn’t evaporate out of sheer fucking insipidness about five years ago like the fucking eau de fuck all that they are? And there are people prepared to stand in a muddy field for a long weekend, pitch a tent by a river of piss and go without a shit for three days just to see Coldplay? Humanity’s fucking doomed, and I say that as its loving shepherd.

Finally, it seems that anxious senior members of the Conservative party believe Rishi Sunak may need to be replaced if the Tories are to win the forthcoming General Election.

Seriously, you fucking think? And who are you gonna replace him with? What specimen is floating, turd-like, atop the cesspool of Tory talent? Which total shit can you fish out and install, unelected yet again, in No. 10? Peter Bone? Robert Jenrick? The dug-up remains of Margaret Thatcher? Seriously, I’m a prayer bloke. I do prays, I pray like fuck for all the fucking good it does, and let me tell you something about prayers – you haven’t got one! You’re fucked. Half your fucking MPs know it, which is why they’re deserting the party like West Ham fans fucking off home after going three-nil down to Arsenal after half a fucking hour!

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A white home counties roadman's bruv actin' like Snoop Dogg coz him's been to Hamsterdam

FOURTEEN-year-old Active J, known in his detached home as Joshua Hudson, has snubbed his best friend Drilla for going to Amsterdam and behaving like a gangsta.

WAGWAN? Active J been cold. Man woz sayin’ nuffink to no bruv, hespecially da XL dickhead, Drilla!

Hear man for true, innit! Active J told parentdem to go to Hamsterdam in da half-term. But no, dem’s took Active J to wasteman Center Parcs, on da pedal bikes wiv da swimmin’ an’ da trees. Rank, bruh!

Den man gets snaps from da massive deadman Drilla an’ him’s at da Hamsterdam coffee shops, throwin’ shapes an’ bein’ all gangsta! Postin’ bare TikToks outside shops wiv da sex gyaldem. Man woz so vexed.

Den back in school, wasteman woz actin’ like him’s Snoop Dogg, sayin’ him woz blazin’ doobies in da coffee shops, innit. Dickhead had mandem an’ gyaldem crews fink him dench, wiv him’s new boxfresh Air Max 95s an’ North Face drip wiv da Dutchdem labels, an’ swaggin’ around, sayin’ ‘Did somebody say Just Eat?’

An’ da worst woz man’s gyal, Lady G, woz spendin’ bare time finkin’ da dickhead nang. Active J woz not jealous, an’ man wud bare pound any man dat said him woz.

Den at break today on da hastroturf, Lady G sez: ‘Does man know wot today is?‘, an’ man sez: ’Thursday, innit. Coz we ‘ad history wiv Miss Jackson.’ An’ Lady G sez: ‘No cuz, it’s our one month hanniversary, innit’, an’ gives man a kiss an’ a can of Monster, an’ sez: ‘Lady G got sumfink else for man.’

Gyal sez: ‘Drilla bought a snide vape in Hamsterdam wiv da weed oil. Him threw a two-day whitey an’ stinked of cat piss an’ ruined da family holiday, now him’s grounded until Heaster.’

Oh man! No dickhead Drilla for two weeks. Active J buying peng gyal Maccy Ds to celebrate. Gassed hanniversary.