Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Aries, March 21st–April 19th

The whole Boris Johnson thing has settled a bet: turns out a lying sack of shit is worse than lying in a sack of shit.

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th

Snooker should adopt a videogame-style scoring system to attract new fans. Red balls are worth 100 points, yellow 200 and so on. Three pots in a row activates a multiplier. Incurring a foul unleashes a wave of fire the likes of which the world has never seen.

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st

If the work the Devil finds for idle hands is wanking, that’s still better than being a fry cook for KFC.

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd

Running a marathon isn’t the only acceptable way to do a shit in the gutter but it’s the only way to get a medal afterwards.

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd

You’ve told your loved ones if it comes to being sent to a nursing home, you’d rather die with dignity. Unfortunately care assistant is the only job available for a 24-year-old with no qualifications so you’re going regardless.

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd

Denial is not a river in Egypt. He’s the blonde twat from One Direction.

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd

The following limited-edition Funko Pops are released this week: Threads Bandaged Traffic Warden, Trainspotting Cold Turkey Ceiling Baby, Mr Casey your Maths Teacher from Secondary School Platinum Ghost Edition, and Lord Lebedev of Siberia.

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 22nd

People say nobody wants to know how the sausage is made but for me, a Lincolnshire-based public health inspector, it is an essential part of the job.

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st

You’ve never seen long-running West End murder whodunnit The Mousetrap, but you know who did it. Agatha Christie. It’s on the poster.

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th

Bands don’t travel in wagons anymore. If you want to jump on a trend you’ll have to sneak onto a tour bus guarded by a beefy Serbian security guard called Vic.

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th

A pet shop might sound like a good idea but shops live for a really long time.

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th

Everyone laughs at racehorses’ names but you try and think of a non-stupid name for a horse. What are you going to call it? John Davies?

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The Archbishop of Canterbury on... that arsehole Boris Johnson

WAKING early for daily morning prayers, I repair to my breakfast room for a light repast of grilled kippers while my housekeeper prepares a bath of purifying salts.

Switching on the wireless, I learn that Boris Johnson has doubled down on his criticisms of the Church of England, whom he accused of failing to be sufficiently anti-Putin following the church’s condemnation of the government’s Rwanda policy as ‘against God’s will.’ A church official has said that Johnson’s remarks were ‘a disgraceful slur’.

Jesus Christ’s donkey’s cock, I’ll say they were a fucking slur! Listen, you unholy fat fuck, it’s the job of the C of E to call out repulsive, rancid ratfuckers like you and Patel because let’s face it, no other cunt’s gonna do it! The fucking Catholics? They’ve kept well schtum because they haven’t the morals or the fucking balls of the C of E! Well let me tell you this, you torpid, lying, Billy Bunter-shaped lump of fucking white 1970s dogshit, you make a fucking enemy of the Anglicans and we will come after you, take off your gonads with a fucking clawhammer and make you watch as we crush them with a fucking steamroller! We do not fuck about!

Meanwhile, in the event of Mr Johnson standing down, the betting for his successor is as follows.

Liz Truss: 6/1 Tom Tugendhat: 8/1 Jeremy Hunt: 8/1 Ben Wallace: 10/1 Penny Mordaunt: 21/2 Rishi Sunak: 12/1 Sajid Javid: 17/1 Michael Gove: 20/1 Nadhim Zahawi: 23/1 Dominic Raab: 33/1

My throbbing red end, what a shower of shite! Liz Truss! If brains were caviar, hers is worth 20p! Tom Tugedhat! You’re in the wrong party, you silly cunt! Jeremy Hunt! Pity your name’s not Jeremy Hwat, because there’s a rhyme I’d fucking like to make there! Ben Wallace! Never fucking heard of you and don’t fucking want to! Rishi Sunak! Yeah, fucking right, if this were the 12th century and this was for the position of Sheriff of Nottingham! Blinding fucking move, Bozo – surround yourself with such a pack of criminally hopeless cunts you look like Nelson Mandela by comparison!

Meanwhile, Shadow Health Secretary Wes Streeting has said that we need to reflect on imposing a ban on smacking children in England. ‘As a child who was smacked by their parents from time to time, I don’t think it did me any harm,’ he said.

Chomp my fucking chasuble, are there any depths you and your risibly pointless party aren’t prepared to sink to court the vote of the knuckledragging, racist, beermat-chewing reactionary from Tipton? Bring back the stocks for cannabis users? Send in the navy to sink the dinghies of asylum seekers and open fire on the RNLI if they intervene? ‘Didn’t do me any harm!’ Christ’s dick on a stick, you grew up to be fucking Wes Streeting! A big child-faced, greasily ambitious, utterly unprincipled suitful of fuck! I’d say that was pretty fucking harmful!

Finally, Piers Morgan interviewed Donald Trump this week. Morgan has moved away from mainstream TV, stating that he is a victim of ‘wokeness’ and ‘cancel culture’.

Well, now, I say, Piers Morgan, there’s a blast from the past. I’d clean forgotten he ever fucking existed. You used to read about him a lot, see him on the TV but, ooh, funny, you never hear of him at all these days. The mainstream media – Tribune, The London Review Of Books, The Morning Star – have completely fucking blanked him! Gee, Piers, I guess you’re right about ‘woke cancel culture’ and not full of self-pitying bullshit! ‘Cancel culture’ my arse, you monumental cunt!