Wow your guests by serving the ultimate party food, with Colin the emotionally unstable chef

Make an effort to really impress your guests, even if they are slavering human dustbins who drink you dry then bitch about you behind your back.

Let's move to a blighted post-industrial Midlands city! This week: Stoke-on-Trent

Stoke-on-Trent is a city made of six towns, all of which are shit individually before they form together to be shit collectively, like a shit Voltron.

Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

This week you decide to cut out the middleman, put glasses, a moustache and a little hat on your cock, and set that as your Tinder profile picture.

The Archbishop of Canterbury on... Bono's arsehole poem

Fuck me till the Saints rise from the tombs and tell me to keep the fucking noise down, what boss-eyed, windy, misty-bollocked fucking verbiage is this?

'I only went to the execution to be polite,' he says, coming back from Saudi with piss all

‘The beheadings threw me off,’ he said. ‘I only went along to be polite. You know what they’re like about hospitality. And, well, I couldn’t eat my partridge on the plane home.’

Take in a Ukranian refugee? No thanks. Instead, I shall open my home to the cancelled

Anyone taking in a Ukranian family – they’re as genuine as Sylvanian Families, and five times the price – is a fool who deserves everything they get.

Let's move to a semi-rural shithole packed with Hackney hipsters! This week: Stroud

Once a quiet, semi-rural shithole, Stroud has lately been elevated to a shithole packed with quirky Londoners convinced they’re doing it a favour by moving there and adding a whole new strata of twat.

Mash Blind Date: 'I do not remember agreeing to be part of some fucked-up experiment to see if opposites attract'

DO opposites attract? We sent environmental activist Chartreuse the Eco-Clown on a date with right-wing Brexit and Boris voter Gilly to find out.

Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Drake’s a Scorpio. Your pathetic little life could not be more diametrically opposed to his life of mansions and girls and success. And you still believe in this astrological bollocks?

The Archbishop of Canterbury on… the Chelsea FC shitstorm

I rolled round the fucking chancel of Westminster Abbey in a pool of my own piss when I heard this. Chelsea! Oh, my fucking scrotum!