Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Aries, March 21st–April 19th

We’ve lost the connection with where our food comes from. Children should be made to visit the Pringles factory and hand-fill the tubes.

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th

Learning a Scottish politician’s name is like getting a Scottish banknote in your change. It doesn’t happen much, you wish it happened less and it usually leads to an argument with a taxi driver.

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st

You fancy a new piercing. How about piercing your neighbour who won’t stop playing Ed Sheeran through the sternum with a halberd?

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd

Free toasties for anyone who reads this horoscope and calls the number 555-000-3355 within the next five minutes.

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd

Avoid the embarrassment of your teenage email address by changing your name to datpussyluva69.

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd

S-Club 7 had to reunite, they were touring in smaller and smaller units. S-Club .75 were playing Butlins in March and S-Club Three-Eighths were booked on oil rigs.

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd

Greggs have released a seasonal Ennui Bake capturing the feeling of late winter in Britain. It has a grey, cold filling and lasts for days and days and days. £1.99.

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 22nd

Fair play to Banksy, that’s a cracking cock and balls he’s done round the back of the rec centre.

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st

You’ve got a better bum than that Kim Kardashian. Or you assume you do. It’s behind you so you’ve never had the opportunity to check.

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th

It’s time for the British judicidal system to join the 21st century. Let’s replace judges’ outdated horsehair wigs with ones that look like Phil Foden’s haircut.

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th

You’re excellent at Tetris but terrible at sex, because genitals aren’t regular right-angled shapes.

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th

You shouldn’t stare at pile-ups on the opposite side of the motorway. You should respectfully close your eyes.

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The Archbishop of Canterbury on... Manchester twatting City

WAKING in a basket below a large, white balloon floating high in the stratosphere, I am dimly aware of the roar of incoming Sidewinder missiles. 

Recalling being invited to demonstrate my reputed competence as an aeronaut at a North American Christian Alliance meeting, I realise I must have imbibed the refreshments I packed for the journey, slipped into unconsciousness and drifted well off course.

Repelling three missiles with a counter-offensive of empty rum bottles, the fourth strikes home and I plummet, landing unharmed in one of the Great Lakes where I enquire of the federal agents who collect me whether I resemble a man of the Orient before demanding passage home.

Such is the US’s reverence for the clergy, I am soon heading across the Atlantic on private jet when I read that Robert Jenrick, minister for immigration, has opined that crime and knife crime in the UK would reduce with ‘better role models’.

Christ’s donkey’s big raging cock, role models? Like the sleazy gaggle of crooks, liars, cokeheads, pissheads, shitheads, grifters, gross incompetents, braying bullies, thickos, oily gammons, racists, fascist cosplayers, cock-up merchants and out-and-out disastrous twats who’ve been running the fucking country for the last 13 years? With you cunts providing the fucking moral example to the UK, it’s a wonder we’re not all suffering multiple stab wounds on a daily basis! You, a fucking Minister? You’re not fit to be Minister for Running Your Own Fucking Bath!

CBI president Paul Drechsler has said that high street giants and other top firms now talk with ‘warmth and optimism’ about Labour.

Let’s call a turd a turd: the ‘warmth and optimism’ these right-wing fuckfaces are feeling is that the party laughingly known as Labour will not say or do one thing to affect their fucking vested interests! Labour should be embarrassed that these are the sort of twats they’re attracting nowadays but of course, they’ll be fucking delighted! What would seriously make Starmer come in his pants is a endorsement from the Daily Mail! More in my fucking sermon this Sunday, ‘Reflections On Living In What Is Basically A One Party Dictatorship’. 

According to Brexit negotiator Lord Frost there is a secret plot to ‘unravel’ Brexit, in the wake of a summit meeting of politicians, business people and civil servants.

Why bother? When the Brexit you pined for is doing a perfectly good job of unravelling itself, given that even a fucking mole could see from a mile off that it’s idiotically unsustainable! As for the fucking ‘secret plot’, it’s about as fucking ‘secret’ as William hating Harry, the Pope’s virginity and the shitting habits of the brown fucking bear! Basically it’s a futile attempt to build some sort of shit sandcastle out of the enormous dump you and your idiot mates took on the country back in 2016!

Finally, it seems that Manchester City are under investigation for multiple alleged breaches of financial rules by the club from 2009 to 2018.

Get the cunting fuck in! I hope they fucking throw the book at this bunch of Saudi owned scumbags! I hope they break down their fucking trophy cabinet, confiscate and melt down every cup they’ve won since those fuckers took over! I hope they don’t just fucking relegate them, they bust them right down to non-league, raze their stadium to the ground and replace it with a patch of muddy wasteland where they have to play with jumpers for fucking goalposts against local pub teams! Of course, nothing of the sort will happen, they’ll be fined about five pence and the whole sportswashing shitshow will carry on as usual but let’s at least fucking dream, eh?