Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Aries, March 21st–April 19th

You smoke Camels, eat Penguins, wear Lynx and drive a Jaguar. And you’re married to a fucking pig.

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th

Ultimately, home swimming pools are like any other home gym equipment. You feel guilty about never using them except to store clothes.

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st

Is the current preponderance of Goth kids caused by the 00s banning of Sunny Delight?

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd

Can I not just go hard then go home?

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd

Realistically, what can you mong besides cheese, fish and iron? It’s straight onto war and doom.

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd

You’d never, ever sing ‘Jingle bells, Batman smells’, because what if you were in mortal peril from Bane and Batman refused to help because of your disrespectful attitude?

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd

At this time of year we should all reflect that regardless of the outcome of the tiebreaker race in LA, Dinoco would always have sponsored Lightning McQueen over Chick Hicks because of Lightning’s youth and potential. Cars, dir John Lasseter, 2006.

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 22nd

Look more productive and cut to the end by naming any document you’re working on ‘v15 final final final’.

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st

There’s a rhyme for remembering how many days are in each month, but not one for the days of the week. Apart from Craig David’s 7 Days.

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th

How about a compromise, government: medical cannabis is available on prescription, but it’s impossible to see a fucking GP?

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th

Come on, the 1922 Committee. Get with the times and call yourself the 1923 Committee.

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th

O Come, All Ye Faithful. Come, baby, come. Harder.

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The Archbishop of Canterbury on... the bottomless idiocy of Susan fucking Hall

WAKING caked in vomit, my head pounding like Mr Fred Flintstone at his front door and my underwear clearly bearing a double load but otherwise fine, I recall this week’s events.

An image was widely circulated of me at the pulpit during morning service glowering and giving the single finger to a member of the congregation – a Conservative MP who had incurred my, and incidentally the Lord’s, displeasure by his very existence.

There was a predictable outcry and even demands from the right that the Church of England be defunded. I stood on the steps of Lambeth Palace and issued the following statement to the gathered media.

‘I understand that my gesture at yesterday’s service, which was accurately interpreted and fully in context, has caused some dismay. There have been calls for me to apologise. My response to those calls and those who make them is as follows: Fuck off.’ I did not take questions.

Leaving my robes to be burned, I shower, breakfast and peruse a periodical where I read that Boris Johnson has given evidence at the Covid inquiry. Amid reports that he considered Covid to be ‘nature’s way of dealing with old people’, he took none of the blame for the government’s handling of the crisis.

Roast my fucking scrotum on an open fire, you are manifestly not fit to be in charge of a comb, let alone a country! The fucking state of you! Mind you, you’re right, the blame for the government’s callous, cackhanded uselessness does lie with someone else – the stupid cunts who fucking voted for you! Ironically, many of whom promptly died as a direct result of your belief they were senile wastes of space who’d outlived their uselefulness once they’d got you into No 10! Way to look after your constituency, you dreadful twat! Now fuck off and retire to Disgraceful-Upon-Shitheel!

Equalities minister Kemi Badenoch has claimed there is an ‘epidemic’ of young gay children being told that they are transgender, describing it as ‘a new form of conversion therapy’ and has vowed to legislate to curb this phenomenon.

No there fucking well isn’t, you lying, bigoted streak of shit! This is just something you frothed up from fucking nowhere! The only ‘epidemic’ there is right now is one of far-right pricks having a pop at trans people like they’re the biggest danger facing the world right now to distract from the absolute pig’s sphincter of a job you’re making of running the fucking country! You’re not doing anything remotely relevant or useful, you’re just killing time till you appear on I’m A Celebrity… Put Me In Charge Of The Cocking Tories!

Conservative London mayoral candidate Susan Hall was interviewed about her claim she was pickpocketed on the Tube, for which she blamed Sadiq Khan, before her wallet was returned to her untouched. Nonetheless, she persisted in her claim.

Oh, for crying the fuck out loud, will you not think for one second of the humiliation you are visiting on those people unlucky enough to be your relatives? The spectacle you’re making of yourself in front of those poor bastards who are going to have to spend Christmas fucking Day with you? You’re sticking to this story? Have you got some sort of fucking allergy to the fucking truth? If you ended up running London you’d make such a calamitous hash of it that within three weeks they’d have to declare Birmingham the emergency capital of the fucking country!

Finally, the last batch of episodes of The Crown will be available to watch this week, bringing us all but up to speed with the British monarchy’s second Elizabethan age.

Oh dear Lord and fuck my white rabbit, what treats have we got in store for this one? Prince Phillip’s ghost granting wishes? William and Harry wrestling naked by the fucking fireplace? Prince Charles’s plants talking back to him to offer him oral? It turning out that the last eighty years have all been a fucking dream? Like an incontinent, arthritic fucking corgi, this wretched series can’t be put out of its misery soon enough!