Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Pisces (20 FEB-20 MAR)
Your workmates are unimpressed when they have a charity collection for Japan and you refuse on the grounds that Mick Karn was a poor man’s Simon Le Bon.

Aries (21 MAR-19 APR)
It’s just another Manic Monday. To be followed by Unimaginable Slough of Deep Depression Tuesday.

Taurus (20 APRIL – 20 MAY)
It’s not a ‘quick aperitif before dinner’ if it takes two waiters to carry it to your table and you have to sign a notarised liability waiver.

Gemini (21 MAY-20 JUN)
A great week for your burgeoning People You Have a Burning Hatred For That’s Completely Out of Proportion to Any Perceived Wrongs They May Have Committed List as you add that small child in the Morrisons advert who goes ‘Myyyy daaaad saaays’.

Cancer (21 JUN-22 JUL)
What seems like an unexpected pleasure could turn into something more irritating than enjoyable. Like being pounced on by Scarlett Johansson while you’re eating soup.

Leo (23 JUL-22 AUG)
In the most exciting development in your life for over 20 years, the off-license and betting shop opposite your house will finally be joined by a Greggs. The trifecta is complete.

Virgo (23 AUG-22 SEP)
This week a certain someone will read something into your body language. Then again, it could be the fact that he’s tied to a chair and Stuck in the Middle With You is on the stereo.

Libra (23 SEP-23 OCT)
How does Batman’s mum call him in for his dinner? She doesn’t. His parents’ savage and untimely death as a child is what ultimately leads him to become the Dark Knight.

Scorpio (24 OCT-21 NOV)
This week you realise your new haircut is unsuccessful when people keep asking if you’ve had brain surgery.

Sagittarius (22 NOV-21 DEC)
Fortunately the celestial realm of the mystics is unsullied by the crass commercialism of modern society, as I explore in detail in my forthcoming book and diet plan.

Capricorn (22 DEC-19 JAN)
After claiming you were being ironically racist, the judge finds you ironically guilty of inciting racial hatred and sarcastically sentences you to 200 hours of post-modern community service.

Aquarius (20 JAN-19 FEB)
It’s time to tear down the very foundations of society with pure thought, make the angels themselves weep crystalline tears of joy at your brilliance and watch as your name becomes a byword for the pinnacles of human achievement. You just have to watch Deal Or No Deal first.

Volleyball sold out

OLYMPIC organisers have pleaded with the public to buy tickets for events not based on bikinis or hotpants.

The 2012 website crashed within minutes of being launched as Britain’s men clamoured to apply for the various thinly-veiled excuses for jiggling.

Front-row seats for beach volleyball, rhythmic gymnastics and the warm-up area for the women’s high jump have been most in demand.

Ruddy-faced Olympic enthusiast Wayne Hayes said: “I’ve applied for the most expensive seats as I’m going to need plenty of elbow room.

“I’ve always enjoyed myself vigorously when watching the games but to actually be there to witness the magnificent spectacle and be able to see every bead of sweat trickling down the….oh sweet Jesus Christ almighty.”

Organisers are desperately trying to raise interest in the more heavily-clothed events with the introduction of qualifying swimsuit rounds for judo, three-day eventing and women’s cricket.

Olympic fuhrer, Lord Coe, warned that without more flesh, tickets for events like fencing and archery will remain unsold unless local people are allowed to bring their own weapons and join in.

Coe added: “The Olympic ideal is to bring harmony between nations, but I don’t see why we can’t have loads of tight, hot arses bouncing up and down at the same time. And thighs.”

Meanwhile, ticket helpline operative Nikki Hollis is fielding up to 200 calls a day from furtive, grunting customers asking whether they are allowed to pay extra to take home the competitor’s towels.

She added: “Putting banknotes in an athlete’s waistband will get you thrown out of the stadium.”