Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Aries, March 21st–April 19th

There’s no way to to sugarcoat this – those aren’t Frosties.

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th

When I describe something as Orwellian I’m talking about a pig walking on its hind legs.

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st

Taking candy from a baby is famously easy but it’s better to take something they’re not allowed to have, like whisky or a knife.

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd

Back in ancient Rome, they had no idea they were in ancient Rome. They thought they were in just present-day Rome despite all the togas and columns and shit.

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd

Did you know they removed gullible from the dictionary? They did. They actually did this time. For real. They removed it. Look it up. You don’t know how to spell it, do you?

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd

You’ve been officially accepted into the Freemasons. Next policeman you meet, try the following handshake: loose grip, tickle their palm, kiss them full on the mouth.

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd

You proudly don your ‘Dear person behind me, the world is a better place for having you in it’ hoodie, then look over your shoulder and who’s there but fucking Hitler.

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 22nd

You don’t call a spade a spade. At the age of 43 you’ve still no idea what a spade is and fear it’s too late to ask.

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st

You’re like Bruce Springsteen, if Bruce Springsteen had grown up in the West Midlands and never had a guitar but did write a poem called ’Walsall is Shit’.

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th

You wake up with a horse’s head on the pillow next to you. Been on the love philtres again, Titania?

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th

Wait, a southpaw is a left-handed boxer? Not a dog breed abnormally sensitive to magnetism?

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th

Weddings are great apart from the bit where you have to watch two boring people explain their favourite boring things about each other. ‘Who gives a shit!?’ you heckle.

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'What if we say this is the real election, you lose, we go home?' my wife asked. And it made sense to me

From the diary of Rishi Sunak, Britain’s most downwardly-spiralling prime minister

WE’RE losing the by-elections. We’ll lose the general election. So, if you look at it from a certain perspective, like Akshata’s, I could just quit now.  

‘You’re already a loser,’ she says, ‘and everyone knows it. Even Bill Gates said I should be ashamed to be married to you. Why hang on a year just to be a bigger loser?

‘Let someone else take the job. Braverman, Badenoch, one of your nutcases. Make out you resigned on principle. That should boost the consultancy fees.

‘We don’t even have to say. Off we go to India on holiday and don’t come back. Email from the plane. Trust me. Nobody will even care.’

Obviously, on a surface level, these words are deeply insulting to me. And on a political level I was put in to do a job and I’m not a quitter. The Tories are bouncing back and turning this around. So all in all, I couldn’t disagree more.

Which doesn’t explain why I’m not saying any of that. Or why I have this rising feeling of hope and lightness in my chest, like all I have to do is say yes and all the tension would go away forever.

‘Actually,’ I say, burying that spark, ‘there’s every chance we’ll win at least one–’ before my wife cuts me off. ‘Oh hear yourself,’ she says. ‘“I am only a two-time loser! I am not fully humilated yet!”

‘After Johnson and Truss the history books will not even remember Sunak. First Indian prime minister of the former UK, that will be your footnote. Give it up. Go home.’

‘But inflation’s going down,’ I whimper pathetically. The door slams behind her, and rightly so.