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WAKING up with a hangover so intense that the buzzing from my head is a danger to overhead air traffic communications, I reflect on another busy ecclesiastical week. 

THERE is evil in the world, people. And it disguises itself by having white skin, being an incubator for terrorism, being members of NATO and it’s called Europe, okay?

I CAN’T say me and my Brian talk as much as we used to. Understandable after 50 years of marriage. Besides, I’m on the PC and he’s on his iPad for the racing results.

“Father, I have sinned, for I find myself breaking the tenth commandment on an hourly basis. You see, I live next to Kim Kardashian.”

WAKING up with a hangover so excruciating it has a hangover of its own, I imbibe two gallons of water with a slice of lemon and reflect on the week’s events. 

HELLO fellow jobseekers. Liam Rosenior here. Philosopher, visionary, 144 appearances as right-back for Hull.

Charity begins at home, especially if you’re squatting in an underfunded donkey sanctuary.

WAKING with a hangover that necessitates my wiping away liquid brain matter oozing from my ears, I discard the wet tissues and reflect on another week’s engagement with British political affairs.

WE owe him a formal apology. He dealt in untruths, we claimed. But Boris was nothing compared to the Lord of Deceit seated on his false throne.

MY husband and I may choose 1750s domesticity, but that does not mean we are repressed in matters of the bedroom. We leave the oil lamp lit if it’s his birthday.