Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Aries, March 21st–April 19th

People who like barn conversions are very easily impressed. They’re always converted into a house. Convert one into something difficult, like a car or a 60,000 seater stadium.

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th

The Lake District’s full of fucking mountains. Well that’s false advertising for a start.

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st

Remember how nervous you felt when you got down on one knee and asked your long-term girlfriend to drive you to HMV to return the Superbad DVD she’d bought you that you already had?

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd

A horse walks into a nightclub. A hot sexy filly with false eyelashes in revealing clothing, otherwise the bouncers wouldn’t have let it in.

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd

Remember before Netflix and PlayStation, when we used to stay out until it got dark climbing trees? It sucked so bad.

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd

Plumbers and electricians, one with pipes of water, one with wires of power: put them together and your whole house is fatal. They must be natural enemies.

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd

Simply Red, The Lighthouse Family and Michael Bublé. This is the UK’s hottest music mix?

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 22nd

Can you solve the infamous cold case of where the fuck your dad put the Allen key that he needed to put together that Ikea wardrobe in 1999?

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st

If you showed a guy from the Middle Ages a smartphone he wouldn’t die instantly of shock. He’d probably just ask you to look up pictures of falcons or something.

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th

Don’t play with Ouija boards, they make terrible frisbees.

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th

Everyone else in the entire world: contactless. Parking meters only: Wave & Pay.

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th

Maybe Ben Affleck dumped Jennifer Lopez because he was like ‘You know what? I’ve decided I want to shag other women for say, 17 years’ and she was like ‘That’s fair. See you in 2021.’

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The Archbishop of Canterbury on... Rebekah bleeding Vardy

WAKING atop the tomb of my 15th century predecessor in the cathedral vault, dressed only in my shoes and combinations, I absolve myself of sin on the grounds of amnesia and head upstairs. 

After leading my clerics in Grace I turn to my freshly-ironed newspaper, where I read that Tony Blair has made a rare political intervention, advising Keir Starmer to abandon ‘woke’ politics and introduce bold policies such as biometric ID so illegal immigrants cannot access public services.

Jesus washed his own fucking cock, haven’t you got an dictatorship to be fucking shilling for? Do you not think Starmer’s a big enough twat as it is without your encouragement? ‘Woke’ politics! Whereabouts up your arse did you fucking pull that one from? Starmer would do a fucking party political broadcast in blackface playing a fucking banjo if he thought it might swing a few racist voters! Just fuck right off, you mulleted, mad-eyed international, historical and political calamity of a fucking human being!

The Rebekah Vardy case continues, though some onlookers feel it is a frivolous matter to to be paying attention to given the current global situation. At the written request of my parishioners, I did provide in my most recent sermon an explanation as to the meaning of the phrase ‘FFS’, which caused some confusion during court proceedings.

Hahaha, fuck me bandy, I tell you, Rebekah, keep this up! String it out, for weeks, months, and years, till you’ve bankrupted that poor, scraggy cunt of a husband of yours, forced to play fucking non-league football till he’s 57 to pay the fucking bills! Seriously, that fucking business with Davey Jones’ locker? Keep the thick-as-pigshit bile flowing! I’ve heard there’s an imminent ceasefire in Ukraine just so that both sides can focus on following your humiliation on a minute-by-minute basis! Your grasping fucking gormlessness might just have helped secure world peace!

Tory MP Lee Anderson has suggested that the real reason people are resorting to food banks isn’t because of poverty, but because of poor cooking and budgeting skills.

St Peter’s scrotum, what is it with the fucking Tories right now? Are you jostling for some sort of unofficial Cunt of the Week competition? Like a flabby faced fucking parasite with caviar juice dribbling down his fucking chin like you has any fucking idea about budgeting for food! Tell you what, when your first cooked meal in the afterlife is a budgetary offering of your own fucking testicles roasted on a hob by Satan himself, you’ll wish you’d kept your fucking fat Tory mouth shut! 

Finally, Winston Marshall, formerly of Mumford & Sons, has spoken of the hardship he has endured following his ‘career ending’ tweet sharing the work of Jordan Peterson, which forced him to switch careers to become a podcaster and ‘culture warrior’.

You know, there are arse kickings and there are arse kickings you need to take a long fucking run up for, right up the aisle, to send the recipient flying right over the fucking altar and face-first into the sanctuary. This is the fucking latter! Not content with using the fucking banjo as your weapon of choice to murder rock music in the 21st century, you and those other corduroyed cocks, you’re now belching bollocks about ‘cancel culture’! Mate, I’ve heard of you and all of my bishop mates have heard of you so you’ve no more been fucking cancelled than fucking Coronation Street, you clothheaded, whining, right-wing, shit music-making dog-awful fucking streak of pube-faced cunt!