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High five. Up high. Down low. Too slow. You felt a pit open up in your stomach just reading that.

WAKING up with a hangover, I realised the binmen had come to recycle my bottles, but it seems the sudden noise caused Household Cavalry horses to rear up and gallop frenziedly through the streets of Central London. 

IT IS every Englishman’s inalienable right, when defending himself on social media, to brand strangers paedophiles and gin up a mob.

MODERN Londoners understand, in theory, there are cities outside London. Some intrepid explorers even visit them and return with wild tales of affordable housing and pints.

Never lift an empty shell to your ear. If you do, you hear the sounds of a divorced man taking his children to McDonalds.

WAKING up on a bed of empty rum bottles, my head thudding as if a small, angry, right-wing man were trapped inside it, I sip a gallon of water to restore my faculties. 

I'VE never had much time for the Arabs. Wasting their time racing camels, living in tents in terrorist training camps in the desert and dicking around with magic lamps.

MORE than 2.8 million Britons are living it up by being too ill to work, instead revelling in long, lazy days untroubled by responsibility. But is there a downside?

CAN Donald Trump and his own lawyer, who is desperately trying to stop him committing further crimes while on trial for crimes, meet in body and soul?

Ant and Dec aren't actually from Newcastle. They're putting it on. Ant is Jamaican, and Dec is mute.