The Archbishop of Canterbury on... Rebekah bleeding Vardy

WAKING atop the tomb of my 15th century predecessor in the cathedral vault, dressed only in my shoes and combinations, I absolve myself of sin on the grounds of amnesia and head upstairs. 

After leading my clerics in Grace I turn to my freshly-ironed newspaper, where I read that Tony Blair has made a rare political intervention, advising Keir Starmer to abandon ‘woke’ politics and introduce bold policies such as biometric ID so illegal immigrants cannot access public services.

Jesus washed his own fucking cock, haven’t you got an dictatorship to be fucking shilling for? Do you not think Starmer’s a big enough twat as it is without your encouragement? ‘Woke’ politics! Whereabouts up your arse did you fucking pull that one from? Starmer would do a fucking party political broadcast in blackface playing a fucking banjo if he thought it might swing a few racist voters! Just fuck right off, you mulleted, mad-eyed international, historical and political calamity of a fucking human being!

The Rebekah Vardy case continues, though some onlookers feel it is a frivolous matter to to be paying attention to given the current global situation. At the written request of my parishioners, I did provide in my most recent sermon an explanation as to the meaning of the phrase ‘FFS’, which caused some confusion during court proceedings.

Hahaha, fuck me bandy, I tell you, Rebekah, keep this up! String it out, for weeks, months, and years, till you’ve bankrupted that poor, scraggy cunt of a husband of yours, forced to play fucking non-league football till he’s 57 to pay the fucking bills! Seriously, that fucking business with Davey Jones’ locker? Keep the thick-as-pigshit bile flowing! I’ve heard there’s an imminent ceasefire in Ukraine just so that both sides can focus on following your humiliation on a minute-by-minute basis! Your grasping fucking gormlessness might just have helped secure world peace!

Tory MP Lee Anderson has suggested that the real reason people are resorting to food banks isn’t because of poverty, but because of poor cooking and budgeting skills.

St Peter’s scrotum, what is it with the fucking Tories right now? Are you jostling for some sort of unofficial Cunt of the Week competition? Like a flabby faced fucking parasite with caviar juice dribbling down his fucking chin like you has any fucking idea about budgeting for food! Tell you what, when your first cooked meal in the afterlife is a budgetary offering of your own fucking testicles roasted on a hob by Satan himself, you’ll wish you’d kept your fucking fat Tory mouth shut! 

Finally, Winston Marshall, formerly of Mumford & Sons, has spoken of the hardship he has endured following his ‘career ending’ tweet sharing the work of Jordan Peterson, which forced him to switch careers to become a podcaster and ‘culture warrior’.

You know, there are arse kickings and there are arse kickings you need to take a long fucking run up for, right up the aisle, to send the recipient flying right over the fucking altar and face-first into the sanctuary. This is the fucking latter! Not content with using the fucking banjo as your weapon of choice to murder rock music in the 21st century, you and those other corduroyed cocks, you’re now belching bollocks about ‘cancel culture’! Mate, I’ve heard of you and all of my bishop mates have heard of you so you’ve no more been fucking cancelled than fucking Coronation Street, you clothheaded, whining, right-wing, shit music-making dog-awful fucking streak of pube-faced cunt!

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'Bollocks to Ukraine if they're not getting me any votes,' he said. I had to agree

From the diary of Carrie Johnson, Britain’s first lady

THEY love him in Ukraine. They say ‘thank you Boris’ and ‘God save the Queen’ when they blow up tanks. But can they vote for him? Can they fuck. 

Even if they came over en masse – which Rishi’s keen on, the economy needs bottom-feeders – we wouldn’t let them vote for five years. What good’s that? He needs fresh Tories now.

So now he’s made Sweden and Finland promises we have no intention of keeping, he’s withdrawing from the whole international-statesman-leading-the-war-effort thing.

As he said: ‘What’s the point if none it’s doing me any good at the polls? Zelensky point-blank refused to provide a video endorsement. He can stick with fucking Bono.’

‘I tell you what kept Churchill going,’ he continued, pouring himself a small Akvavit from the bottle he was meant to give Prince Charles. ‘Gratitude. The support of the people. No fucking elections.’

‘It is dragging on a bit,’ I admitted. ‘In an autumn election we need quick wins, not getting bogged down in a whole back-and-forth over Donbas.’ ‘Exactly,’ he said, coughing and eyeing the Akvavit suspiciously.

‘So we’re ready to do something on my issues?’ I said. Being Downing Street’s only millennial is a heavy responsibility. And though my amends weren’t in the Queen’s Speech – apparently there was a mix-up with drafts – I think I’m moving the needle.

‘What were they again?’ he said. ‘The green thing?’ ‘Carbon net zero,’ I said, again. ‘Taking the global lead on conservation. Really turning things around on trans rights.’

‘Yeah not so much,’ he said. ‘The cost of living crisis?’ I said. ‘No chance,’ he said. ‘The poor need a bit of market correction.’ ‘What then?’ I said.

‘We’re going to pick a massive fight with the EU on Northern Ireland,’ he said. ‘While they’re distracted with this Ukraine shit. Really make it work for us.’ And knocked back his third Akvavit.