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TRUMP wants Greenland. We want the favour of the most powerful man in the world. Does nobody else see the obvious solution?

LOVEMAKING can be neglected when you’re attending to the needs of a screaming fountain of piss and drool who looks like your bald uncle Paul, but smaller.

You judge how your year will go on how well the novelty New Year glasses in the shape of that year work. 2026 will be mediocre.

WAKING with a hangover that is literally headsplitting – a mixture of red, green and cerebral matter is trickling from a gash in my forehead – I apply a plaster and reflect on my New Year sermon.

Turns out if you both resolve to lie back and think of England, sex will be even worse.

CHRISTMAS is a time celebrated with Anglo-Germanic traditions and delight at gifts, but according to one of the founders of our feast, it was not always thus.

On the same day as Live Aid a much smaller event called Fife Aid took place. And despite having Big Country and Jethro Tull’s Ian Anderson on the bill, it was not as successful.

WAKING with a hangover so excruciating I vomit up chunks of my liver which unfortunately my dog snaffles before I can retrieve them, I reflect on an encounter earlier this year with Liz Truss.

TUCKED away in the picturesque town of Laglio in Lombardy, George Clooney’s mansion boasts a swimming pool, tennis court and patchy CCTV coverage that allowed us to dig under his fence with ease.

NOW the sacred feast of Cyber Monday is over, we’re fast approaching Boxing Day sales eve, or to use its preferred pronoun, ‘Christmas’.