Your astrological week ahead for September 5th, with Psychic Bob

Aries, March 21st–April 19th

“Let me correct the record.” [starts painting Tipp-Ex all over a seven-inch of Elvis Presley’s Hound Dog]

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th

Fair play to Magritte for managing to capture the exact moment before the apple hit that bloke in the face.

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st

Heaven is a half-pipe? Oh no. Heaven is a full pipe, of rough shag.

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd

‘What kind of a Mickey Mouse operation is this?’ – me, upwards of 50 times, on a family trip to Disneyland Paris.

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd

Quick, what colour are your wife’s eyes? Trick question, of course, your wife is a cyclops.

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd

The only two Hooters locations in the UK are in Nottingham and Newcastle, yet scientists refuse to launch studies into why the women of both areas have such fantastic tits.

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd

“We actually spent a fortnight watching C-beams glitter in the dark by the Tannhäuser Gate in May, and we were a little disappointed.”

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 22nd

There’s a town called Gaydon not far from a town called Bicester. Where’s Straightville then?

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st

Just putting it out there, but what if the solution is Kate and Meghan getting drunk and getting off with each other?

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th

Went to a book launch. Shit. They just kept them on the table and didn’t fire them in the air even once.

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th

Zzzz Top, I call them! No, just joking, their music is absolutely electrifying.

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th

“Yes, well I actually already have a data centre near me. It’s called a library.” [trampled flat by crazed mob that burns down library]

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The Archbishop of Canterbury on… John Redwood, sticking it to the Normans with Brexit

WAKING up with a hangover so severe I feel it merits a 1973 24-part series narrated by Sir Laurence Olivier, I vomit into a ceremonial trough and am returning to bed when there is a knock at the door. 

‘Come!’ I bark, and in steps Sir Keir Starmer, formerly in my employ as my administration assistant. 

‘What do you want?’ I demand. ‘I thought I gave you the boot weeks ago?’

‘No, that must have been another Keir Starmer.’

‘So you are Keir Starmer and you want your job back, right, because no other cunt will take you?’

‘No, I said I would carry on serving as an MP and I stand by that statement.’

‘But you’ve resigned.’

‘Yes, and I stand by my statement of resignation also.’

‘You’re giving me a fucking headache, you constantly lying prick! Do you not remember what happened when you worked for me before and the fucking balls-up you made of it?’

‘I believe I did a good job under difficult circumstances given the mess I inherited.’

Upon which I clutch the top of his head, swivel him around and deliver a hefty boot up his hindquarters, pitching him face-first into the corridor. That done, I take a light breakfast and peruse a periodical. Therein, I read that James Cleverly has pledged that should he become mayor of London he would end Sadiq Khan’s ‘war on motorists’.

Fuck me at both fucking ends, talk about the living antithesis of nominative fucking determinism! This is fucking London, you Tory piece of pond scum, not the fuckwit shires! We quite like our fucking kids having lungs healthier than six-year-old Victorian urchins forced to work as fucking chimney sweeps! This sort of shite might play well with greedy, gas-guzzling BMW drivers on the fucking outskirts but the rest of us value things like actually being able to breathe and not having to clean our fingernails every 15 minutes because of fucking air pollution!

Maureen Lipman has criticised actor Gerard McCarthy for pulling out of a play with her because of her ardently pro-Israel views, saying: ‘He’s going to limit himself to just working with Mark Ruffalo and Javier Bardem for the rest of his career if he doesn’t grow up.’

So he’ll be working with decent, talented, Oscar-nominated people who give a shit about genocide as opposed to a racist, anti-Palestinian, increasingly reviled fanatic like you? Sounds like a fucking good deal to me! It sounds a lot like projection, the worrying realisation that supporting the deaths of 73,000 and counting Palestinians was a pretty fucking bad idea. Could it be you who ends up in panto in Swansea, not even being asked to appear on shite TV nostalgia shows to talk about Beattie the fucking BT granny?

Milo Yiannopoulos, the British far-right campaigner and Trump supporter who called for the deportation of millions of Americans has himself been detained and deported to the UK by ICE. He has now described himself as a ‘persecuted human rights icon’.

Hahahahahaha, I’m glad there’s aisles at Westminster Abbey because I have spent the last few hours fucking rolling in them! The leopards ate your fucking face! And now the boot’s up the other arse, ie. your own, you pathetic fucking streak of weirdo! And don’t think you’re gonna get the same sort of gig over here you had in the fucking States. Our nutjob-to-sensible ratio is fucking depressing enough, but unlike the United Shithole of America it’s not enough to keep you off the fucking dole!

Finally, with the Bayeux Tapestry now in the UK, former MP John Redwood felt the need to comment on X: ‘As we consider the Bayeux Embroidery we should remember the many killed by this French invasion. English men and women had their lands stolen. Many were put into serfdom by a new Norman governing class.’

Yep, so it was right and proper that a mere 950 years later, with the wounds of this invasion still raw, that we voted for fucking Brexit. Got it. King Harold’s revenge at last! Stick your bendy bananas up your arse, William the Conquerer! Everything is about Brexit for you, isn’t it, you risible fucking moron obsessive? As if back in the day you wouldn’t have been rooting for the fucking Sheriff of Nottingham against the socialist outlaw Robin Hood! Cunt!