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Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Sagittarius (22 NOV-21 DEC)
Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Thanks for that, he was a right old prick.

Capricorn (22 DEC-19 JAN)
Wave your hands in the air like you just don’t care. Now give me everything in the till or I’ll blow your fucking head off.

Aquarius (20 JAN-19 FEB)
After discovering from Santa that you’re not really an elf you journey through a magical kingdom to New York where you eventually wake up stinking of mushrooms and piss.

Pisces (20 FEB-20 MAR)
Watching Skins really speaks to you about your teenage years, mostly that they didn’t take place in the fevered cocaine imagination of a Hoxton fucknut.

Aries (21 MAR-19 APR)
You schedule a meeting with HR after your boss instigates a new team building exercise called ‘Bring Photos of Your Teenage Daughter to Work Friday’.

Taurus (20 APRIL – 20 MAY)
Loneliness is a cloak you wear. And the shade of blue is always there. As well as the Um Bongo stains and dried sobwank.

Gemini (21 MAY-20 JUN)
A good sense of humour has always been your most important quality in a boyfriend and your new man has the funniest gigantic penis you have ever seen.

Cancer (21 JUN-22 JUL)
To be or not to be, that is the question. What? To be, you reckon? Righto.

Leo (23 JUL-22 AUG)
You say you don’t look at the mantelpiece when you’re stoking the fire but that presupposes that you  see a vagina as something that should have coal stuffed into and ignited. Get a fucking grip.

Virgo (23 AUG-22 SEP)
One-two buckle my shoe. Three, four knock on the door. Five, six sling your arse down the offie and pick me up a shed-load of Stella, there’s a good chap.

Libra (23 SEP-23 OCT)
A red-letter day for you as scientists prove that doing something creative requires exactly the same amount of talent and effort as going in Twitter and saying it’s shit.

Scorpio (24 OCT-21 NOV)
You want to say it with diamonds this year, unfortunately it is going to cost a fortune to spell out ‘your arse has got huge’.

 

 

Scientist who discovered secrets of bird erection battling not to have it named after him

THE scientist who discovered how large birds achieve erection
has urged his colleagues not to name it after him.

Professor Tom Logan, of the Insitute for Studies, said there was no reason for the process by which ostriches and other large birds pump their genitals full of lymph fluid to become known as ‘getting a Logan on’.

But Professor Henry Brubaker, the Institute’s director, said: “This represents a huge advancement in our knowledge of avian reproduction. Hats off to Professor Logan, for unlocking the puzzle of big bird erections.

“Consequently, it is only fair that Professor Logan should now be immortalised.

“Myself and all other leading scientists thus decree that a large, sexually-aroused male bird will henceforth be described as ‘having a Logan on’. Or as having undergone ‘Loganisation’ in its phallus.

“Probably over time the word ‘Logan’ will become synonymous with ‘large bird’s penis’.

“Children at zoos will point and say ‘look at that bird’s big red Logan, mummy.'”

Professor Logan said: “Grateful though I am to Professor Brubaker for this flattering suggestion, he is putting me in a situation where I will eventually have to kill myself.

“Although I also slightly suspect that if I hadn’t criticised his recent paper on skin pigmentation in marmosets he wouldn’t be fucking doing this.”

He added: “My advice to aspiring scientists is stick to particles and black holes, stay away from animals in general and animal penises in particular.”

 

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