The Archbishop of Canterbury on... of course Blair liked Kissinger. They're both evil twats

WAKING up with a mouth as dry and desiccated as the remains of Mother Teresa, I sweep away the empty bottles strewn across my bed and ruminate on the events of last week. 

I had been invited as guest of honour to the annual Christmas party held by the Little Sisters of the Poor, among an audience of underprivileged children from the Westminster Orphanage and their carers. The keynote speech was delivered by Sister Gloria Boniface. 

‘As we celebrate this festive season, which is first and foremost to mark the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ, let us give thanks and praise to -‘

‘It’s fucking November,’ I interjected. ‘Why the fuck is everyone having their Christmas parties in November? This is the sixth one I’ve been invited to. 

‘November. That’s fucking fireworks season. Let’s go to the car park and dick around with rockets. I’ve some empty bottles in my bag we can let them off from. Or we can just chuck them at each other.’

And with a loud, assenting cheer from the assembled children and their carers, we emptied the room and did just that. 

Storing away this cherished memory, I take a light breakfast and peruse a periodical. Therein I read that former US secretary of state Dr Henry Kissinger has died, aged 100. Tony Blair paid tribute, saying: ‘I consider it one of the greatest privileges of my political life to have known him. He inspired me and taught me and I will forever be grateful to him.’

Fuck me, crack out the fucking champers, at last the evil cunt is dead! He should have been flayed, roasted alive and dangled by his feet from a lamppost decades ago! Destroyed the lives of people in Cambodia, Chile, East Timor, you fucking name it, and gets treated like some wise old teddy bear by centrists! Of course he taught you everything, Blair. That’s how we ended up in fucking Iraq! The pair of you should have spent the last 20 years sharing a fucking slop bucket in a cell in The Hague!

Former health secretary Matt Hancock has told the Covid inquiry that his ‘transgressions’ may have affected public confidence in Covid rules. He resigned after footage emerged of him kissing his aide Gina Coladangelo, breaking social distancing guidelines.

Oh fucking hell, don’t fucking remind us of that, Handjob. You’ve given us all the fucking dry heaves! Never mind a Covid inquiry, there should be some sort of inquiry into how a pop-eyed pellet of pure pillock like you ever rose above the rank of junior estate agent and ended up in frontline politics! Of course that affects public confidence! If you issued guidelines recommending wiping your arse after taking a shit I’d fucking think twice about doing it!

It seems the BBC current affairs show Newsnight is to be shaken up, with investigative journalism to be curtailed in favour of more studio debate. 

You know what? Why not just fucking dump it altogether? Replace it with old episodes of Sergeant Bilko and Laurel and fucking Hardy? Seriously, you might as well. What serious person would actually sit up late just to watch the docile, grovelling fucking shambles that is fucking Newsnight? Especially if it’s no longer going to contain any ‘news’, just a bunch of far-right fruitloops on speed dial spouting unchallenged bollocks pulled freshly from their arse?

Finally, there has been some debate this week over whether Britain should return the Elgin Marbles to Greece, with Rishi Sunak saying that they cannot be returned ‘as a matter of law’.

Jesus H Cunt, what the fuck are you on about, you silly little prick? What fucking law? They don’t fucking belong to us! They’re not ours! They’re theirs! How would you fucking feel if I stole your trousers from the changing rooms of Westminster squash club and wore them on my fucking head during Sunday Service, then told you I couldn’t give them back because it’d be against ‘the law’? They’re your fucking trousers and they’re their fucking marbles, how fucking hard is that to understand? 

Sign up now to get
The Daily Mash
free Headlines email – every weekday

Barbie: Hilarious fun with a message, or confused feminism with some jokes?

BARBIE was amazing, perhaps not to actually watch for two hours, but as a phenomenon. But now the dust has settled, it’s definitely got problems you don’t have to be a bitter misogynist to notice.

Christ, not more ‘strong female role models’

In Barbieland, Kens are beach bums while Barbies do all the prestigious jobs: doctor, lawyer, politician. (Note the filmmakers’ incredibly conventional view of which jobs are worthwhile.) But how many role models do women need at this stage? Did they not see Captain Marvel, Mulan, Peter Pan & Wendy and everything Disney has made recently? Pay attention and become fighter pilots instead of meek little housewives, ladies.

Ignoring your own rules  

Barbie’s existential crisis is caused by her owner’s middle-aged mum playing with her real-world counterpart in a negative, regretful frame of mind. It’s unclear why Greta Gerwig bothers with this needlessly complicated mechanic in a lighthearted fantasy film. And surely most Barbies end up in landfill or boxes in lofts, meaning that Barbieland would actually be full of creepy unconscious Barbies, like something out of Coma?

The systematic oppression of Kens

At one point the Barbies take back control of Barbieland and return Kens to being second-class citizens. There’s a word for this: apartheid. It’s lucky the Kens capitulated, or the Barbies might have got out the sjamboks and CS gas.

The dire Hollywood low-brow humour bits

Barbie includes a lengthy chase scene through Mattel’s headquarters, involving the childish board of directors led by Will Ferrell. MRAs and incels interpreted these dipshit characters as a dig at men in general, but a more likely explanation is that after years of braindead comedies Hollywood thinks mugging actors doing CRAZY SHIT is inherently funny. It’s not, and Tinseltown types who think this should have the DVD of Meet the Spartans rammed up their arse as a learning experience.

The gynaecologist scene

So Barbie’s biggest achievement is having a vagina? No, that can’t be right. It must be a triumphant moment where Barbie becomes her true, strong, empowered female self. Well done Barbie for, er, going to the doctor’s.

Did Barbie just luck out?

It seems likely that Barbie, with the help of some questionable marketing, managed to appeal to loads of demographics, including some of the lesser-known ones like ‘Boyfriends who fancy Margot Robbie and thought there’d be enough jokes in it’. Sorry, that’s heresy. Barbie was completely amazing in every respect and the marketing budget of $150 million, one of the biggest in film history, had nothing to do with it.

Well, that was all a bit of an anticlimax

At the end, Barbie is presented with a classic dilemma – should she stay in the safety of Barbieland or fulfil her potential in the perilous human world? Rather than this being a great dramatic moment Barbie just says her goodbyes and heads off. It’s as if the Little Mermaid casually turned around and said: ‘Yeah well, being a mermaid wasn’t all that anyway. Laters.’