Your Astrological Week Ahead, With Psychic Bob

Leo (23 JUL-22 AUG)
Success in the Dragon’s Den as you secure £500,000 worth of investment in your machine that fires snakes at Duncan Bannatyne.

Virgo (23 AUG-22 SEP)
Always remember that you’re just a single pulse in the beam of a higher energy, a shared thought in the collective consciousness of the universe and that love is the only universal truth. You dozy shitehawk.

Libra (23 SEP-23 OCT)
Bismillah! NO! We will not let you go! Well, that parole hearing could have gone better.

Scorpio (24 OCT-21 NOV)
No matter how irreplaceable you may think you are, bear in mind you can always be substituted by a lookalike for a third of the cost. A Welsh lookalike, no less.

Sagittarius (22 NOV-21 DEC)
That one with Owen Wilson and the one from Friends – not the one who looks like a crow, the other one – and I think there’s a dog in it? That’s what your week’s going to be like.

Capricorn (22 DEC-19 JAN)
This week the librarian tears your membership card into dozens of tiny pieces and tosses them into your weeping face because you attempted to take out a John Grisham novel. You’re lucky she didn’t kick your genitals clean off.

Aquarius (20 JAN-19 FEB)
No Sicilian can ever refuse a request on his daughter’s wedding day. So why not ask him to turn his criminal empire over to you and fuck off back to Palermo.

Pisces (20 FEB-20 MAR)
I’ve had a word with Jesus and he’s told me to tell you that you were a total waste of nails.

Aries (21 MAR-19 APR)
Warning bells should be ringing this week when Channel 5 say they want to make a documentary about your family.

Taurus (20 APRIL – 20 MAY)
Everyone thinks the sun shines out of your arse but it’s actually a condom stuffed full of glow worms.

Gemini (21 MAY-20 JUN)
A tricky one this week as you draw I, S, T, I, N, G  and F while playing scrabble with your gran. Tell her it’s another word for crochet.

Cancer (21 JUN-22 JUL)
Nobody is going to take you seriously if you continue to smell of midfielder’s balls.

 

Your Problems Solved, With Holly Harper

Dear Holly,
There are two men at work who appear to want to sex me, but I can’t decide between them. One of them has a great body, sexy hair, and a chiselled jaw, but he works in the canteen and drives a Nissan Micra. The other is balding, has a paunch, and smells of bins. However, he’s an executive, and I am pretty sure he’ll buy me lots of expensive stuff if I let him touch my clacker. How can I decide between the two?
Zilla,
Cricklewood

Dear Zilla,
If I were you, I’d steer clear of both of them. I had to make a similar decision when picking a partner for American country dancing, which Mrs Paisley sometimes makes us do at playtime because she’s about 700 years old and mental. I had to choose between Oliver French, who picks his nose and eats it, or Martin Fraser, who always has his hands in his pants. Suffice to say, I made the wrong decision, because I ended up with big grey bogies on my hand all the way through the Kentucky Mountain Square dance. Instead of making an impossible choice, I strongly advise you to pick a nice, clean girl as your partner, or even better, don’t let old ladies trick you into extra-curricular line dancing in the first place.
Hope that helps!
Holly