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WAKING with a hangover that leaves me reluctant to excrete lest I void not just my bowels but also my abdomen of vital organs, I reflect on another week in my stewardship of the church.

WAGWAN? Man ‘as been in turbo-turmoil dis week, fam. Active J wanted man’s peng form teacher Miss Jackson to see him’s new trim wiv slightly more fade but her did not come in.

MURDER. Once it was an ugly word, referring to vile acts that took place in filthy alleys and the homes of the destitute that it was besmirching to even read about.

Jarvis Cocker really should have changed the lyrics of Disco 2000 to the past tense.

WAKING with a hangover so excruciating that I consider deploying the self-assembled guillotine gifted to me by the Archbishop of Amiens, I reflect on the events of the last week.

FOR too long the Hollywood box office has pigeon-holed my acting abilities. Post-Smashing Machine I'll be taken seriously, and I'll be able to put my own stamp on these iconic TV roles.

My unc landlord gave me some sus news today. He’s learned there are bigger numbers than the one he’s currently charging me for rent and is upping payments accordingly. I’m chopped.

You know how you deal with a jellyfish sting? You don’t let his insults get to you in the first place.

WAKING with a hangover so intense that some sort of silver liquid matter is dribbling from my ears, I reflect upon meeting President Trump during his visit to the UK. 

I SCAN their social media. I monitor their conversations. I can tell they’re thinking it. So why won’t our homegrown liberals badmouth Charlie Kirk so I can snitch on them?