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Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Taurus (20 APRIL – 20 MAY)
A bad first day as an elephant poacher as you turn up for work with a 2,000 gallon drum of boiling water and a 40-foot slotted spoon.

Gemini (21 MAY-20 JUN)
Not sure rating every one of your post-1998 bowel movements for weight, consistency and exit cleanliness really does count as you being ‘thorough’, to be honest.

Cancer (21 JUN-22 JUL)
By advertising your product as being made from ‘entirely natural ingredients’ all you’re doing is acknowledging that matter cannot be created.

Leo (23 JUL-22 AUG)
You local pub shows remarkable initiative, taking advantage of the recent weather by re-launching their beer garden as their ‘beer outdoor pool’.

Virgo (23 AUG-22 SEP)
Paying to join that uniform dating website proves to be a total waste of money as there’s nobody else on it dressed as a snowtrooper from The Empire Strikes Back.

Libra (23 SEP-23 OCT)
This week 100 million people watched you elbow one guy in the face, kick another one while his back was turned and headbutt a third. Just like Wittgenstein in 1921 during the book tour for Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus.

Scorpio (24 OCT-21 NOV)
So far you’ve managed to avoid all the spoiler trailers of Prometheus so it would be mean of me to mention the appearance of Adam Sandler as a wacky loudmouthed baseball player.

Sagittarius (22 NOV-21 DEC)
What you want, baby I got it. What you need, you know I got it. All I’m asking for is your insulin prescription, for fuck’s sake.

Capricorn (22 DEC-19 JAN)
Your typo in the contract for the next series of Robson’s Extreme Fishing Challenge sees the show transferred to the Adult Channel. As well as making the vaseline budget go through the roof.

Aquarius (20 JAN-19 FEB)
Just say no to drugs. In fact, a six-foot bag of mushrooms with the face of Syd Barrett has just walked in, so you can say it to their face.

Pisces (20 FEB-20 MAR)
Fortunately your terrible fear of heights will never be a problem because you’re going to spend your whole life in that dreary, flat Lincolnshire hellhole you were born in. So that’s a relief.

Aries (21 MAR-19 APR)
Oh, good. A breathy, acoustic version of a well-known song sung by a woman with a quirky voice. Hoo-bastard-ray.

 

 

Ukulele market crashes

THE second-hand value of a ukulele has plummeted to £1.12 after thousands simultaneously lost interest in the stringed instrument.

Six months ago, a decent quality beginner-level ukulele with case was valued at £45.

Experts had predicted the crash – which follows a year-long ‘speculative uke bubble’ during which legions of middle-aged men took up the inexpensive instrument in the hope it might make them feel alive again – although they have been shocked by its severity.

Tom Logan, musical instrument market analyst at Donnelly-McPartlin, said: “All the conditions were right for a perfect ukulele storm.

“First, the number of ukulele players in the UK now far exceeds the demand for ukulele recitals, which despite being exaggerated by enthusiasts and Frank Skinner, is almost non-existent.

“The glut of uke players has devalued ukulele proficiency so players are no longer considered cool, if indeed they ever were.

“Add to this the uke owners who have simply lost interest organically, after having achieved sufficient mediocrity to strum When I’m Cleaning Windows quite slowly.

“This triggers a mass offloading of ukuleles onto Ebay, into car boot sales and in some instances even free ads papers.

“We had hoped that Britain’s current obsession with all things vintage and ‘retro’ may have been enough to sustain the ukulele. But sadly not.

“And I don’t think the market has bottomed out yet.  Expect to see former ukulelists in the street, trying to swap their instruments for potatoes.”

The current uke crash is the first major instrument catastrophe since Recorder Wednesday in 1993, when millions of schoolchildren simultaneously quit the simple wind instrument after tiring of the one-note tune Busy Bee.

 

 

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