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WAKING with a hangover so toxic that when I vomit and my dog comes scampering into my room to eat it he drops dead on the spot, I reflect on the week’s events.

WAGWAN? Did fam see Active J on da TV? Man woz hinspirational. Parentdem is batshit for da tennis, innit. So dem fixed it for yours truly to be a ball muggle at da Wimbledon ting!

TOO afraid to share you’re a furry with your wife? You’re right to be, she’ll leave you. Only a freak wants to be done by a 42-year-old mortgage advisor in a Pepé Le Pew costume.

Reassuring to know Noel Edmonds is in New Zealand, as far away from a British TV studio as it is physically possible to be.

WAKING up with a hangover so intense I see everything in a lurid shade of green for several hours until it abates, I reflect on another milestone in the history of the Church of England. 

HELLO peasants. You can’t have failed to notice mine and Lauren's recent understated wedding in Venice. And now you’re gagging to know what other tasteful events we have planned. 

HOT weather makes Britons behave unusually, and so it was when 17-year-old Catherine Howard stripped out of her lady-in-waiting outfit to wash a gun carriage.

If you listen to Dark Side of the Moon at the same time as you watch The Wizard of Oz, you’re f**king muntered.

WAKING with a hangover the size of Yorkshire, but mercifully not causing me to adopt a tiresome ‘bluff’ persona, I reflect on another tumultuous week in matters ecclesiastical. 

THE crowd before the Pyramid Stage is in a frenzy. Then He strides on stage and they lose it. The whole attendance of Pilton Farm, chanting ‘Oh, Nigel Farage’…