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Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Aquarius (20 JAN-19 FEB)
An interesting eight seconds later this week as the last few moments of your life are spent realising that your entire journalistic career has been spent making an already dreadful world marginally worse with your pinch-mouthed hateful rambling.

Pisces (20 FEB-20 MAR)
As a general rule of thumb, I think it’s usually a good idea to avoid taking pension planning advice from a man wearing a Viking helmet.

Aries (21 MAR-19 APR)
Life’s too short to hold on to regrets. Well, yours will be.

Taurus (20 APRIL – 20 MAY)
Encourage your kids to learn more about wildlife by leaving scraps of food by the back door and watch the wonder on their faces as they see their very first badger, fox or feral tramp.

Gemini (21 MAY-20 JUN)
The road is long, with many a winding turn that leads us to who knows where, who knows where. Fucking TomTom piece of shit.

Cancer (21 JUN-22 JUL)
Don’t rake up old grudges at your forthcoming family gathering. Make up a load of new stuff to go absolutely fucking mental about. It’s what your granddad would have wanted.

Leo (23 JUL-22 AUG)
You’re proud to have brought your daughters up with a healthy attitude toward their own body image, but with your genetic timebomb of a fat arse, that was the least you could do.

Virgo (23 AUG-22 SEP)
As an O2 customer, this week you’re offered priority booking for UB40’s latest tour in a hitherto unheard-of usage of the word ‘priority’.

Libra (23 SEP-23 OCT)
By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept as we remembered Zion. Jesus, those Matrix sequels were rotten, weren’t they?

Scorpio (24 OCT-21 NOV)
You’ve managed to broaden your horizons after your recent city break to Bruges and can now add Belgians to the list of people you hate.

Sagittarius (22 NOV-21 DEC)
Your lengthy, well-researched and biting critique into Top Gear is somewhat undermined by the fact that nobody with an ounce of common sense takes any notice of what Clarkson thinks and as a light entertainment program it means as much as a sparrow’s fart in the grand scheme of things.

Capricorn (22 DEC-19 JAN)
You’ve given your own spin on the Spanish tradition of tapas and a glass of salty Manzanilla on the terrace by sitting in the park with a bag of Tangy Toms and a bottle of Harvey’s Bristol Cream. Olé.

 

 

Olympic stadium to become 'world class' car boot sale venue

LONDON’S Olympic stadium will be transformed into the nation’s finest car boot sale venue after the 2012 games.

Determined to leave a lasting cultural legacy for the country, the stadium’s governing body has accepted a bid from car boot sale organiser Roy Hobbs, who believes his events could attract buyers from as far afield as Luton.

Hobbs, who currently runs several car boot sales and a market stall where you can get mobile phones unlocked, said: “We’re talking bouncy castles, a choice of up to four burger vans and of course loads of quality goods, none of them nicked.

“There’s a woman from Rickmansworth who sells gingerbread men, she makes them herself, she’ll probably be there if her shingles aren’t playing up.

“And two smashing lads in a white Renault van with several hundred pairs of white size-7 Reebok Pump trainers that they got for their birthdays but unfortunately didn’t fit.”

Hobbs said the government has already been in touch about selling the stuff that used to be in the Millennium Dome and has since been kept in a massive taxpayer-funded cardboard box.

A spokesman for the Olympic Park Legacy committee said: “The Olympics are about pushing yourself to your limits and we hope that visitors will channel that spirit when they are haggling over a Poldark VHS box set or a book about how the pyramids were built by aliens, never giving up even when the seller insists he won’t take less than 50p.”

He added: “Athletics meetings will continue to be held on the site for the dozen or so people who are interested, so we’re asking people not to park cars or vans on the track.”

 

 

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