Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Aries, March 21st–April 19th

The Atlantic says you’re fat, and even if you lost two stone that jacket would look shit on you. Well, you wanted to hear the latest from frank ocean.

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th

Your favourite tube line? Fallopian.

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st

Manners are what separates us from the animals. Manners and PlayStations. And crisps. And GCSEs. And air miles. And going to the cinema. There’s quite a bit, actually.

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd

There’s no need to list every landfill indie band you were in between 2005-2010 on your CV. Put Editors and leave it at that. They won’t ask about it anyway.

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd

People think it’s weird that at the fair you used to get a goldfish tied up in a plastic bag, but it’s better than a cat.

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd

They need to develop a line of greetings cards for people who neither want to come across as cloying sincere nor call the recipient a fat, old twat. They’d make millions.

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd

Your Amazon package has been left in your nearest safe location! And because you live in Glasgow, your nearest safe location is Watford, Herts.

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 22nd

You put the checkout divider down between you and the old lady behind you. Noticing she’s got a multipack of BBQ Beef Hula Hoops, you move it back a bit. Your hoops now.

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st

The Scout motto is ‘be prepared’, yet very few of the ones you’ve met even carry Rizlas.

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th

The elephant in the room here is the dangerous lack of fencing at this zoo.

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th

You can tell religion’s bollocks because, unlike languages, nobody ever goes about learning another one.

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th

It’s incredible to see the majesty of a German child hatching out of a Kinder egg.

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The Archbishop of Canterbury on... Richard cocking Madeley

WAKING up in a BBC office opposite director general Tim Davie, I recall I have been summoned for ‘a quick word’ following remarks construed as criticism of Rishi Sunak. 

As a regular on Songs of Praise they have the right, though I was relaxed enough about the occasion to enjoy a libation or two on the car in. Consequently I may have dozed off.

‘As I was saying,’ continues Davie, ‘I feel it is inappropriate, given your relationship with the BBC, to be sharing these views.’

‘Surely what I tweet outside of my obligations to the Corporation is my own affair?’ I reply.

‘You didn’t tweet it, though. You said it on Thought For The Day.’

‘Oh. Well, regardless, my views as expressed were measured and reasonable.’

‘I have a transcript here,’ he says, sliding it across to me, where I read my words were ‘Thought For The Day? I’ll give you my fucking Thought For The Day. That Rishi Sunak is an oily, shit-eating, lying little cunt.’

I accept a warning about my future conduct and, suggestion noted, return to my chambers to peruse a periodical. Therein, I learn that Suella Braverman believes urgent measures on small boats are required since 100 million refugees are currently heading to Britain, adding ‘Let’s be clear. They are coming here.’

Christ’s left bollock in a Bolognese, do you think even the stupidest, most racist arsehole battering his shoe on the side of his head every day as he reads the fucking Daily Mail actually believes that? Are they all rapists, even the fucking kids? Do you want to heap that one of your shitheap of fucking lies? Six year old girl rapists coming in their fucking millions to deflower the old men of Stoke-On-Trent! I know Goebbels said people like you have to tell a big lie, but I bet he’s turning in his grave right now, slapping his head and saying ‘Nein, not that fucking big, you scheisskopf!’

It seems that Boris Johnson is pushing for his father to be awarded a knighthood.

A fucking what? For fucking what? Services to breakfast television in spouting grade-A horseshit when there’s a massive government fuck-up to distract from? Services to his wife in breaking her nose but heroically restraining himself to a ‘one-off’ as Fiona Bruce was at pains to assure us on Question Time? They should give fucking Mark Francois a knighthood before they give one to a vile and very English old twat like you!

Richard Madeley has been on our screens this week, venting the concerns of ordinary British people and stepping in when Susanna Reid causes a Tory Minister a moment’s discomfiture.

What is the point of having a democracy or accountability in public life if it’s safeguarded by a bloviating, overtanned, overheated, dimwitted, relentlessly fatuous piece of fucking arse fluff like Richard Madeley? A presenter who makes you yearn for the gravitas, wisdom and heft of fucking Piers Morgan? What the fuck were you doing on Question Time? Are you there to provide balance against the intelligent panellists to make sure that total fucking idiots get a hearing too?

Finally, it seems that Chris Moyles is back in the news, after it re-emerged that when Charlotte Church was 15 and Moyles 13 years older he offered to ‘lead her through the forest of sexuality’ upon reaching her 16th birthday.

Thanks a fucking bunch to the fucking BBC for giving a safe fucking berth to fucking Chris Moyles all these fucking years! The lads, eh? The fucking bantz eh? The lads, the tits-out, ooh duckie, look at the poof over there, but your honour I was just being postmodern and ironic. Fuck you. You are a fucking wanker, Moyles. You are a scumbag. You’re a lump of pure fucking disgrace. You are an eternally damp fucking semen stain on the fucking sofa of BBC entertainment. Fuck right off back to the snickering boy’s changing room that spawned you, you sweaty-balled cunt!