Your astrological week ahead for May 18th, with Psychic Bob

Aries, March 21st–April 19th

Can anybody recommend a good cat exorcist in the Carlisle area? Must be available evenings and weekends. Reasonably priced only, it’s not like it’s urgent.

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th

Mm, this cream horn really is exquisite. What? It’s your cock? Not again, Dalton!

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st

If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again. Sooner or later you’ll get through to some thick twat who believes you’re HSBC’s fraud team.

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd

Have I told you lately that I loathe you?

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd

Sartre was wrong. Hell isn’t other people – it’s a Caffè Nero toilet at a city centre train station.

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd

It’s big news in the football this weekend! Will a team win, or will another team lose? And what does this mean for the colours red, blue, and lighter blue?

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd

Revenge is a dish best served with locally sourced, seasonal vegetables and paired with a New World Riesling.

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 22nd

F**k the police! Blow the security guard! Wank off the lollipop man!

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st

Oh, you’ve built your major European city around a mighty river? So f**king imaginative, never seen that before.

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th

I like my women like I like my coffee. As somewhere to insert my penis.

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th

This week, a magician will ask if that’s your card and, even more worryingly, if that’s your PIN.

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th

Fine, alright, I won’t go breaking your heart. F**king Elton John and his demanding attitude.

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The Archbishop of Canterbury on... 72 genders and Gillian Keegan chose 'stupid cow'

WAKING in my bed awash with vomit, the result, doubtless, of a bad kipper after a late evening, I hose myself down and reflect on yesterday’s events. 

It is one of the less pleasant chores of my role to meet with prominent politicians. Having put it off for many months, I have agreed to a brief audience with Rishi Sunak.

I open the door only to be confronted by a short lad with a rictus grin, bug eyes and half-mast trousers. I am about to tell him to run along as I have an important meeting when I realise this is Mr Sunak. He is much shorter than you think in real life – about 2’ 8”. 

We quickly get down to business in my library. What are your plans for the NHS? I ask him. ‘We represent security and stability whereas Labour represents anarchy.’ Further education? ‘Free speech is one thing but mindless violence is another.’ And the economy? ‘Israel has a right to defend itself.’ 

After ten more minutes of this nonsense I lift him from his chair. ‘Wait, what? Let go!’ he squeals as I seat him atop a high shelf before leaving the library. He might still be there now, for all I know. 

I take a light breakfast and peruse a periodical. Therein, I read that Keir Starmer has set out his six ‘steps’ for government. These include ‘Deliver economic stability’ and ‘Launch a new Border Security Command’.

Chop off my big toe and shove it half a yard up my fucking rectum, is this it? A farrago of half-baked schemes and reactionary bait for wavering Tories whose cocks you’re so fucking desperate to suck? I notice you say ‘steps’ because of course ‘pledges’ means nothing coming from your lying fucking mouth! It might as well read: 1. Fuck all. 2. Fuck all. 3. See 1 and 2. 4. Get to ride in a big car and go to Buckingham Palace. 5. Fuck all. 6. Water down promise to do fuck all. Add ‘Being a shitscared, useless, rabbit-faced lump of white dogshit’ to the list, because you’re already fucking doing that!

Education minister Gillian Keegan has been on the BBC discussing sex education in schools. When asked what nine-year-olds were currently exposed to, she replied: ‘Things like choosing lots of different types of genders, identities, the spectrum, it’s fluid, different genders on different days, there’s 72 of them.’

What the fuck are you wittering on about? 72 genders? You just pulled that out of your fucking arse, didn’t you, Gillian? We can see it’s smeared in shit as you say it! This is verbal fucking incontinence on a Trumpian scale! You shouldn’t be running a government department, you should be in some sort of fucking home babbling all through fucking Countdown, with carers having to hold your fucking nose to get you to open your mouth and take your nice sleepy pills!

Prince Charles has unveiled a new portrait of his Royal personage, painted by one Jonathan Yeo. Depicting him in the uniform of the Welsh Guards, it shows the King surrounded by billowing clouds of infernal red.

Hahaha, Jesus H Cockwipe, you were fucking happy with this? That’s not art, that’s the prison cell of an IRA guy staging a fucking dirty protest after shitting blood from 12 weeks on hunger strike! I mean, what the fuck? Is this what constitutes ‘modern’ in your half-arsed, Poundbury-addled mind? It looks like it’s been knocked up with a fucking sponge in about ten minutes. If I’d been presented with this I’d have taken it off the easel and smashed it over the twat’s head, like in a fucking Laurel and Hardy film. Sorry about your prostate and that, but you really are a silly old cunt!

Finally, citizens of the UK were afforded a rare glimpse of the Aurora Borealis, or Northern Lights, over the weekend, with many, many images of the beautiful spectacle appearing on social media.

Yeah? Well they weren’t fucking visible round my end, I can fucking tell you! Aurora Borealis? Aurora Shitty Arsis, more fucking like! I’ve drunk non-alcoholic gins that were less fucking disappointing than this! Making me stand in my garden for an hour like a mug, pointing my camera at a sky unusually tedious even for this time of year! You can take your shimmering images, your luminous skyscapes, your breathtaking wonders of nature and shove them up your fucking arses! You probably only got a good view because you live in the countryside and that makes you a cunt for a start!