Your astrological week ahead for July 11th, with Psychic Bob

11th July 2026

Aries, March 21st–April 19th

As the Baddiel and Skinner song goes, ‘30 plus N years of hurt, where N = an even number of years since 1996 in a summer when England qualify for a World Cup or European Championship, never stopped me dreaming.’

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th

Look, I’m going to be the bigger man here. I’m six foot three.

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st

Is that a gun in your pocket or just a really oddly-shaped pocket?

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd

“Don’t blame the Messenger.” Melinda Messenger, when she’s broken yet another f**king mug.

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd

Denial is not just a river in Egypt. It also goes through quite a bit of Sudan.

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd

Asked my builder for a French exit when I meant French doors. Anyway, he’s gone.

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd

I like my drinks like my marriage – on the rocks. And with a little umbrella.

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 22nd

Where does it end? Liam Neeson’s House of Games? Michelle Obama’s House of Games? Morten Gamst Pedersen’s House of Games?

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st

Was The Stripper written specifically for strippers or did a stripper hear it and say ‘finally, someone’s written me theme music’?

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th

You say tomato, I say tomato the exact same way, I suppose we’ll have to get married.

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th

While the cat’s away, we’ll probably check into the cattery ourselves.

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th

I guess it’s normal for sheep to have writing sprayed on them. But the word ‘SLAG’?

The Archbishop of Canterbury on… Rupert Lowe's incredibly sensitive take on Dunblane

10th July 2026

WAKING with a hangover so excruciating I have to activate tiny, specially installed windscreen wipers on my eyeballs to wash away the blood, I look back on a somewhat sweltering week.

I had cancelled all church services, for reasons I outlined in a hand-painted post I left outside the Abbey. It read as follows:

‘OWING TO THE SHIT WEATHER, ALL SERVICES ARE CANCELLED FOR THE FUCKING FORESEEABLE. IT’S TOO FUCKING HOT. NO CUNT CAN BE EXPECTED TO WORSHIP IN WEATHER LIKE THIS. GO HOME, AND FOR THE PISS ALL IT’S WORTH, GET ON YOUR KNEES AND PRAY THIS ISN’T A HARBINGER FOR THE FUCKING APOCALYPSE.’

My congregation duly stayed away, leaving me to sunbathe naked on the roof of Lambeth Palace all week. All I had to hand was a transistor radio, several bottles of vodka and a blunderbuss to shoot down incoming drones dispatched by tabloids eager to discredit me in the eyes of the populace. I downed several, their shattered shards raining down pleasingly, at great expense to those newspaper proprietors who ordered them to be sent up.

With a satisfied smile, I take a light breakfast and peruse a periodical. Therein, I read that Nigel Farage has resigned from his role as MP for Clacton but intends to stand again in a by-election which he claims is a ‘people versus the establishment’ contest.

Fuck my dead dog, is there no fucking end to your brazen frogspawn? The fact that even the Labour party have grown a spine and refused to have anything to do with your fucking stunt should tell you the game is up! You have a fucking shit summer coming up, having to explain why you trousered five million quid, and while the BBC with their weird hard-on for you will boost your fucking one-man theatre it’s starting to look like you’re finally toast this time! And is it fuck the people versus the establishment – it’s a whining, grifting twat against a not-that-hilarious dustbin Darth Vader! Finally you’re being taken with the fucking seriousness you deserve!

Andy Burnham. due to be anointed prime minister, has apologised for Labour’s stance on Gaza, saying that his party ‘did not get it right’, and vowed to put more pressure on Israel under his leadership.

Yeah? Well let’s fucking see how much fucking ‘pressure’ you apply! Because call me a fucking cynic, Mr Labour Friend of Israel, but this looks to me like a cosmetic exercise in trying to woo back the people who deserted the party in droves over its continued funding of a fucking genocide! Gonna stop selling them arms? Call for their expulsion from FIFA, the Eurovision Song Contest, sanctions against Israeli exports until they stop murdering medics, civilians, children? Will we see that, or are you the candidate for Continuity Cuntdom?

WHSmith, the famous High Street retailer and purveyor of paperback books, chewing gum and so forth, have announced sweeping closures of up to 150 of their stores.

And you know what? Hoo-fucking-shitting-ray! I don’t know how the fuck you’ve survived this long anyway, with your rotting carpets, crappy stationery and price gouging! I don’t want three fucking bottles of still water for the price of two, I want one bottle that isn’t priced £3.25 or somesuch bollocks! I’m not someone who prays as a rule, I mean, fuck that pointless shit, but I pray daily for your disappearance from our towns, our cities, our railway stations and our airports, you precinct pricks!

Finally, it seems that Rupert Lowe, leader of the far-right Restore Britain party, claimed on the Joe Rogan podcast that the 1996 Dunblane massacre, in which 16 children and their teacher were shot dead, was ‘one murder’. He went on to lament the sweeping gun laws that followed and his father’s pistols being confiscated.

You know, it’s some feat to make Nigel Farage look like a fucking national treasure in the mould of David Attenborough, but you’ve managed it with this! Even fucking Joe Rogan checked and you repeated ‘one murder’. Did you think that because this was broadcast in America it’d never come to light in the UK, you dense bastard? And are the worst horrors imaginable fine so long as they’re pretty infrequent? Anyone who votes for you after this isn’t some disaffected, left-behind victim, they’re a flat-out cunt! The only Britain you’ll be restoring is one full of obnoxious streaks of fuck like yourself!