Your problems solved, with Holly Harper

Dear Holly,
The rat race is really starting to get me down. I’m sick and fed up at looking at people’s moany faces complaining about things which aren’t my fault and having to do loads of boring stuff like difficult sums and talking nonsense to angry people in suits. I’m thinking of jacking it all in and investing in a potter’s wheel. What do you think?
Mervyn King
London

Dear Mervyn King,
Didn’t you hear? Today is a very special day because all the teachers are going to bunk off school so perhaps you can too. It’s all rather weird because teachers usually tend to get pretty annoyed if they catch you dogging class, for example to go look at a dead cat up on the school field, even if you try to explain it’s actually a valuable scientific experiment because you can see maggots crawling out of its bumhole. Anyway, my mummy says the teachers won’t be looking at decaying animal corpses, just standing outside the school gates and shouting. If you ask me, someone needs to take them aside and point out that you’re much less likely to get caught and have much more fun if you hide out somewhere a little more discreet, like Stacey Sullivan’s house: she’s got Monster Munch and Guitar Hero 2.
Hope that helps!
Holly

 

Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Sagittarius (22 NOV-21 DEC)
Ooh eeh, ooh ah ah. Tingtang wallawallabingbang. So this is what I pay my national insurance for, is it?

Capricorn (22 DEC-19 JAN)
Any gambling or new business venture you tried last week would have been a guaranteed success. Sorry, I knew there was something I meant to tell you.

Aquarius (20 JAN-19 FEB)
If you’re curious why you were thrown out of that play last week about the inarticulate roar of the underclass set against the backdrop of a nation on the brink of collapse, shouting ‘He’s behind you!’ was certainly a factor.

Pisces (20 FEB-20 MAR)
Your allergies include peanuts, shellfish, wool, dairy products and not being a fussy little shit.

Aries (21 MAR-19 APR)
After mishaps in the previous 12 police precincts you’ve worked in, you arrive in your new precinct with what turns out to be an unfounded level of optimism.

Taurus (20 APRIL – 20 MAY)
HTTP 405: Vague bullshit not found.

Gemini (21 MAY-20 JUN)
On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me the depressing rota of family members we’ll be grimacing at for a fortnight.

Cancer (21 JUN-22 JUL)
Still no word from Channel 4 on your pitch for a follow-up to Desperate Scousewives set in Carlisle and called Slags With Regional Accents.

Leo (23 JUL-22 AUG)
This week, why not show the world you’ve learned the lessons of the Leveson enquiry by standing 100 yards further away from a grieving widow’s house using a slightly longer lens?

Virgo (23 AUG-22 SEP)
An impressive performance at a blindfold wine tasting, where you tell the difference between the standard and the Grand Cru Margaux, is cut cruelly short as you don’t even see the Wine Warehouse security guard coming.

Libra (23 SEP-23 OCT)
You fail in your attempt to get time off from work between Christmas and new year as your colleague’s family and travel commitments are considered more important than ‘trying to break my record of nine shitfaced days in a row’.

Scorpio (24 OCT-21 NOV)
This week you’re bitten by a radioactive cow and start fighting crime through your superhuman ability to ruminate grass through your four stomachs.