Your astrological week ahead for March 8th, with Psychic Bob

Aries, March 21st–April 19th

Always awkward going to bed with someone new for the first time, running through plans in advance with the intimacy co-ordinator.

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th

Oh great. Now my f**king robot hoover’s eloped with Sir Killalot.

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st

Did you lose a contact lens during the Great North Run last year? Drop us an email, we think we’ve found it.

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd

“No, but I have seen a china bull in a shop.”

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd

Discussion of whether the Oompa Loompas were racist has always foundered on the ‘against who?’ question.

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd

Today will be Kafkaesque in that you’ll find a giant beetle in your bed.

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd

“Every weekend, clubgoers in the north-east are badly beaten just for going clubbing in the north-east. For only £9 a month, you can help.”

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 22nd

Romans had the right idea about Britain. Hang around long enough to fight some Scots and then piss off.

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st

Bipolar bear meets bi polar bear. News at eleven.

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th

Jolly nice of the Prime Minister to announce that those 5,000 new missiles for Ukraine will be made in Belfast. Using local artisanal craftsmen with decades of experience, no doubt.

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th

Don’t you want me baby? Don’t you want me [unsettling noise like dying goose]?

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th

Does it have a season? How can you see it? Are there groupies? These are things the normal among us may never know… about golf.

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The Archbishop of Canterbury on... Suella: not sure if you're human but you're definitely English

WAKING with a hangover whose vibrations are so intense they are causing dogs half a mile away bark to incessantly, I review the events of the week, including my decision to become a ‘tech bro’.

Like many I have been concerned at Elon Musk’s takeover of the social media site Twitter, as well as the insipidness of its putative rival, Bluesky. I therefore announced this week the launch of my own site, Twatter.

‘The rules of Twatter are as follows,’ I posted. ‘No homophobia, transphobia, racism. No bots. No extreme centrists. No spam. No MAGAs, no anti-vaxxers. Posts may be up to 250 characters in length and must contain at least five recognised swear words. Crappy compound words like “spunktrumpet” are not admissible.’

I am gratified to note that within days, Twatter established itself as an enormous success, with approaching six billion users. Twitter, meanwhile, consists of little more than a dwindled echo chamber of bots barking AI-generated nonsense at one another, its market value now estimated to be 38p. 

Satisfied with my modest labours, I take a light breakfast and peruse a periodical. Therein I read that Thames Water and other water companies are raising their bills in April, with some customers paying almost double what they were previously.

Tie me down and cleanse my arse with a jetwash enema, are you cunts taking the piss or what? Taking the piss but not taking the actual shit out of our rivers, I’ll fucking warrant! We’re footing the bill for your chronic greed, incompetence and bog-lousy stewardship in this ongoing perma-Thatcher era! It doesn’t fucking affect me, I don’t drink water, can’t stand the filthy stuff, but every other bugger is going to be fucked, aren’t they? Mark my words, though – one of these days there’s gonna be a Labour government and they’re going to nationalise your arses till the fucking pips squeak!

Donald Trump claimed this week that the Biden administration had spent $8 million on ‘making mice transgender’. It appears he was making a confused reference to ‘transgenic mice’, a process whereby scientists add human cells to rodents to study more accurately the effects of disease on human tissue. 

Hahahahaha, fuck my budgie, this is what stops me from fucking worrying myself to death about you, Donald. You’re not just an evil, lying, grotesque, power-worshipping, overtanned sex offender and inciter of riots, you are one seriously stupid fuck! You’d probably do a Nazi salute yourself except you can’t work out which fucking arm to raise! Christ, transgender mice. How would you even know? Are they going to specify their fucking pronouns? Seriously, when you die, and that day can’t come soon enough, you should donate your brain to science. They’ll wonder how an organ the size and density of a fucking walnut can be so full of shit. It’s a medical fucking marvel!

Australian politician Roger Cook has apologised unreservedly for calling US vice president JD Vance a ‘knob’. 

Why? The fuck why? This is all cock-eyed. He fucking well is a knob, a throbbing, glowing red bellend visible from hundreds of miles away! It’s fucking JD Vance who should be apologising to humanity for the jeopardy he’s putting us all in with his unprecedented knobbiness! He’s a knob and everyone including his family knows it! Apologising to Vance for calling him a knob is like apologising to fucking Richard Osman for calling him tall! What a massive cunterama the world has turned into!

Finally, social media is still digesting Suella Braverman’s comments that, despite being born, brought up and educated in England, she is ‘not truly English’. She also claimed multiculturalism has failed, and ‘we are living in the wreckage of that failure’.

You know, in a perverse way you’ve got to admire the fucking dedication of our far-right quasi-fascists, who’ll even go as far as loathing their own racial origin just to bang the drum for the anti-multicultural cause! Of course you’re fucking English, for fuck’s sake! Whatever fucking significance that has! Everyone was fucking born somewhere and you were fucking born here, so fucking what? Being English isn’t some fucking state of grace, it’s an accident of birth! I mean, you’re not fucking human, and I’m not entirely sure you’re a fucking mammal, but you’re definitely English! Get fucking used to it!