WAKING up in a septic tank in a pool of urine not exclusively my own, following a sequence of events with which I shall not detain you, I wearily clamber out and take stock of recent events. 

It seems that voices within the Church of England ecclesiastical authorities have suggested that my weekly sermons at the Abbey be prefaced with ‘trigger warnings’ to alert churchgoers to ‘violent language and sexual swear words not used in polite company’. 

Stunned, I retorted by return of email as follows: ‘Fuck’s sake, you bunch of skirt-gathering, lily-livered fucks, if this was something actually fucking offensive, like an old episode of Dad’s Army going on about ‘fuzzy wuzzies’, I’d understand, but this is our rich and poetic fucking Anglo-Saxon language that predates fucking Chaucer, so fucking well fuck off.’

The matter settled, I repair to my chambers, there to take a light breakfast and peruse a periodical. Therein I read that home secretary James Cleverly wishes to ban overseas care workers bringing dependants to this country.

Fuck me on the fucking sideboard, you people get more vindictively racist by the day, don’t you? You think this is gonna fucking fly with your core voters? Every day more and more of them are counting on underpaid care workers to wipe their arses, because their own fucking families are too busy waiting for them to die and hand over their inheritance to fucking do it for them!

On the television set, I see that Quentin Letts, Daily Mail sketch writer and author of an upcoming book entitled Stop Bloody Bossing Me About, has weighed in on the issue of the menopause. He explained that he fully understands the condition due to suffering from occasional painful knees and sometimes requiring a nap following a surfeit of wine.

Oh my sacred fucking fanny, there must be some women on hand in your pompous, pampered little life to inflict the pain you deserve for this mansplaining bollocks with a kick in the aforementioned bollocks? Hurty knees! A fucking hangover! Talk about always seeing the small picture! You are an absolute waste of fucking space that could be put to better use staring pointlessly into, you absolute piss troll of a twat! 

Secretary of state for business and trade Kemi Badenoch is involved in another row, this time with Canada, which has denied her claim that trade talks are continuing and have not broken down. She is tipped to be the next leader of the Conservative Party.

Roast my cock and put it in a fucking artichoke salad, who do you think people are gonna believe on this one? The country of Canada, or Kemi Badenoch, who, every time she opens her mouth, makes actual hairy, sweaty fucking testicles tumble out? Next Tory leader? I can well believe it, because with each iteration they get fucking worse. What will the next one after her be like? A bright blue parrot on a fucking perch blowing dog whistles 24 hours a fucking day? Fuck!

Finally, recent Trident tests have shown that the nuclear deterrent is malfunctioning, causing a missile to go off course and veer in the direction of the US. Defence minister Grant Schapps has offered ‘assurances’ that such a mishap would not occur in an actual war.

Did he fucking now? If these things are ever fired then we’ll be sizzling fucking radioactive toast! We’ll be too busy being incinerated to give a shit whether our retaliatory shots took out St Petersburg. Maybe the takeaway from this is that these things are a colossal fucking waste of money and since we’re all about not maxing out the fictional credit card these days, maybe we should get rid? Still, in the meantime you can’t do much more for nuclear disarmament than plopping them in the fucking sea.