ONLY middle-aged women with mum haircuts complain. Or so I thought until my McPlant Burger only came with small fries instead of medium and I was forced to become everything I hate.
YOU’VE made it this far, you’re actually having sex. Now be careful not to arse it up by throwing a terrible pet name into the mix mid-coitus.
Can’t the French just eat the bedbugs? Put them on the menu called ampules de sang de Paris like they’re a delicacy?
WAKING with a mouth drier than the remains of Mother Teresa, I blink and see several colleagues and friends, including the Bishops of Durham and York, at my bedside.
‘ISRAEL wins, whether against Hamas, Egypt, Lebanon or Britain,’ says Netanyahu. ‘Let’s reframe Britain’s contribution positively,’ I say.
THE sea’s full of weird shit. That doesn’t mean you have to eat it, and somebody should tell the Spaniards that.
WHAT do you get if you cross a sheep and a kangaroo? A misbegotten monstrosity begging to die, and that’s what you’ll look like in this season’s woolly jumpers!
I can’t help think life would be better if I had a legion of devoted followers, a harem and everyone gave me all their money.
‘Don’t feel pressured to have double-height atriums, open stairwells and floor-to-ceiling windows just because Kevin McCloud wants you to,’ I tell my six-year-old son.
WAKING with a head that feels somewhat like it has been stuffed forcibly with the corpse of Larry the Downing Street cat, I find myself harking back to my younger days.