Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Aries, March 21st–April 19th

Once you go black, you never go back. Because that toast is ruined.

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th

Don’t think those grasping Greek bastards will be content with the Elgin Marbles. Next they’ll want the Dundee Power Ball and the Swindon Space Hopper.

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st

Why do women need boyfriends when they can just look on IMDb for quotes from Fight Club and Scarface?

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd

A haunted painting of someone who reaches out of the frame menacingly makes a great gift for film viewers who can’t see things coming a mile off.

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd

They say the most exciting part of a crush is wondering if the person loves you back. Apart from them escaping from the basement while you’re at work.

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd

This week you’ll see someone who normally wears glasses without them on and their face will look oddly naked. That’s their bedtime face, so it’s a bit like you’ve had sex. (Under no circumstances attempt to explain this to them.)

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd

If a recipe asks you to simmer for 20 minutes, just think about Michelle Mone getting £29 million for fuck all while you couldn’t go to the pub during lockdown.

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 22nd

Destiny sees a stranger in sneakers trying to convince you Shakespeare was black. Doctor Who, 6.30pm, Saturday, BBC1.

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st

Your cat only likes snuggling up to you so that if you die it will have prime face-eating access.

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th

Don’t be outdone by your neighbour’s inflatable snowman by genetically engineering real elves from the DNA of cheerful short people and chaining them to posts in your garden. Remember to kill them by 6th January though or it’s bad luck.

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th

Rocky’s less-mentioned personal struggle is having a girlfriend with the same name as Adrian Chiles. That can’t have been easy during sex.

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th

You share a star sign with Dukes of Hazzard hottie Catherine Bach, but as a 53-year-old male plumber those hot pants aren’t doing you any favours.

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The Archbishop of Canterbury on... of course Blair liked Kissinger. They're both evil twats

WAKING up with a mouth as dry and desiccated as the remains of Mother Teresa, I sweep away the empty bottles strewn across my bed and ruminate on the events of last week. 

I had been invited as guest of honour to the annual Christmas party held by the Little Sisters of the Poor, among an audience of underprivileged children from the Westminster Orphanage and their carers. The keynote speech was delivered by Sister Gloria Boniface. 

‘As we celebrate this festive season, which is first and foremost to mark the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ, let us give thanks and praise to -‘

‘It’s fucking November,’ I interjected. ‘Why the fuck is everyone having their Christmas parties in November? This is the sixth one I’ve been invited to. 

‘November. That’s fucking fireworks season. Let’s go to the car park and dick around with rockets. I’ve some empty bottles in my bag we can let them off from. Or we can just chuck them at each other.’

And with a loud, assenting cheer from the assembled children and their carers, we emptied the room and did just that. 

Storing away this cherished memory, I take a light breakfast and peruse a periodical. Therein I read that former US secretary of state Dr Henry Kissinger has died, aged 100. Tony Blair paid tribute, saying: ‘I consider it one of the greatest privileges of my political life to have known him. He inspired me and taught me and I will forever be grateful to him.’

Fuck me, crack out the fucking champers, at last the evil cunt is dead! He should have been flayed, roasted alive and dangled by his feet from a lamppost decades ago! Destroyed the lives of people in Cambodia, Chile, East Timor, you fucking name it, and gets treated like some wise old teddy bear by centrists! Of course he taught you everything, Blair. That’s how we ended up in fucking Iraq! The pair of you should have spent the last 20 years sharing a fucking slop bucket in a cell in The Hague!

Former health secretary Matt Hancock has told the Covid inquiry that his ‘transgressions’ may have affected public confidence in Covid rules. He resigned after footage emerged of him kissing his aide Gina Coladangelo, breaking social distancing guidelines.

Oh fucking hell, don’t fucking remind us of that, Handjob. You’ve given us all the fucking dry heaves! Never mind a Covid inquiry, there should be some sort of inquiry into how a pop-eyed pellet of pure pillock like you ever rose above the rank of junior estate agent and ended up in frontline politics! Of course that affects public confidence! If you issued guidelines recommending wiping your arse after taking a shit I’d fucking think twice about doing it!

It seems the BBC current affairs show Newsnight is to be shaken up, with investigative journalism to be curtailed in favour of more studio debate. 

You know what? Why not just fucking dump it altogether? Replace it with old episodes of Sergeant Bilko and Laurel and fucking Hardy? Seriously, you might as well. What serious person would actually sit up late just to watch the docile, grovelling fucking shambles that is fucking Newsnight? Especially if it’s no longer going to contain any ‘news’, just a bunch of far-right fruitloops on speed dial spouting unchallenged bollocks pulled freshly from their arse?

Finally, there has been some debate this week over whether Britain should return the Elgin Marbles to Greece, with Rishi Sunak saying that they cannot be returned ‘as a matter of law’.

Jesus H Cunt, what the fuck are you on about, you silly little prick? What fucking law? They don’t fucking belong to us! They’re not ours! They’re theirs! How would you fucking feel if I stole your trousers from the changing rooms of Westminster squash club and wore them on my fucking head during Sunday Service, then told you I couldn’t give them back because it’d be against ‘the law’? They’re your fucking trousers and they’re their fucking marbles, how fucking hard is that to understand?