The Archbishop of Canterbury on... King Charles III pissing his reign away

8th September 2023

WAKING with a faint buzzing about the temples, perhaps as a result of my now-customary Brasso nightcap, I recall the tumultuous events of the past few days.

Booked for an interview with ITV on the place of the Christian church in modern British life, I delivered my prepared remarks with aplomb. However, not realising that the camera and microphone were still running, I continued to speak.

‘The problem is, they’re all sitting on their fucking arses,’ I said. ‘The Chief Rabbi, the Pope, whoever’s in charge of the fucking Methodists, they’re on their arses, the lot of them. If I had a message it’d be this. Get the fucking fuck off your shit-filled fucking arses, you hopeless cunts.’

The exchange was broadcast and I was universally applauded for my candour, voted Archbishop for Life by the dioceses of England in a standing-room-only conclave with the throng hanging on my every word, and received a lavish fruit basket from the Dalai Lama.

And so, as the sun streams in, I peruse a periodical where I read that Prince Charles has been King of England for a whole year.

A pig’s nipple on a fucking pork scratching, a year? Well, that was a year of fuck all of any use or note except bleating for a fucking pay rise, wasn’t it? I mean, probably better that than try to guide the nation, because if you had your way we’d all be wearing smocks and digging for turnips in the giant feudal fucking backyard once known as England but fuck, make yourself useful in some way, you hopeless, hawing mass of burst capillaries! Get pissed and have a plant pot fight with Camilla, just something, any fucking thing!

The comedian Lee Mack has found himself in hot water after receiving an award from footballer Jill Scott and quipped that ‘to receive a sex toy’ from her was an ‘absolute pleasure’. His defenders have expressed concern that Mack will be cancelled.

Oh, for fuck’s sake! No-one’s getting cancelled! No-one ever gets fucking cancelled! It’s a fucking right-wing fantasy that the world is run by woke tyrants who’ll erase truth-tellers like Mack from existence like Stalin’s crony from a 30s photo! He made a shit, ladwanky joke that belongs somewhere in the mid-90s and he got some pushback, end of fucking story! He’ll be back on telly next week and for the next 30 years because that’s how the world is! Stop it with your incessant sniveling, you self-pitying pricks!

Penny Mordaunt has backed a new National Service scheme for teenagers to ‘boost community spirit’.

Christ on the crapper, what barrel-scraping is this? National Service? Fuck off! If there’s another war it’ll be fought with drones, robots and thermonuclear weapons not a bunch of square-bashing conscripts! It’d be a complete waste of time, the same as it was last time, which is why we got rid of it and had the fucking Beatles instead! You might as well propose bringing back black-and-white TV, the Lord Chamberlain pre-decimal currency and Muffin the fucking Mule! If you want to ‘boost community spirit’ announce a fucking general election for next Thursday and that the Tories won’t be fielding any candidates in it!

Finally, following the prison escape of Daniel Khalife, Metropolitan Police Commissioner Sir Mark Rowley has said that the escape was ‘clearly pre-planned’.

You think? It wasn’t something he decided to do on a fucking whim? Spotting a delivery lorry and thinking, ‘Ooh, here’s fun!’ Pre-planned? Well, that’d never have occurred to me if you hadn’t pointed it out. Of course it was fucking pre-planned, you stiff fucking waste of a blue cap! You’ll be telling us he was psychologically motivated by the desire not to spend any more time in prison next! I see the shit continues to rise to the top of the fucking Met! Instead of wasting time standing there spouting the cow’s-arse-with-a-banjo obvious, get the fuck out there and catch the cunt, you cunt!

It's understandable Gillian doesn't feel appreciated. It's because she isn't, and that's because she's crap

7th September 2023

From the diary of Rishi Sunak, the prime minister laser-focused on the now, not the decisions made as chancellor in the dim and distant past

I CANNOT possibly condemn my education secretary for feeling underappreciated. She very much isn’t, but that’s entirely down to her failings in the role.

It’s also true that I can’t, in all fairness, blame her for the issue of RAAC in schools. But I’m going to regardless because otherwise it’s my fault and it can’t be, due to my being the prime minister.

It’s a shame she has to go – not yet, but when the crisis gets worse – because she’s the only self-made working-class member of the cabinet. On the other hand, it’ll be nice not to have her around because she’s the only self-made working-class member of the cabinet.

‘They’re doing fuck all Rishi,’ Gillian says, thankfully over speakerphone. We’re on a private jet to the G20 in India, or ‘a proper country’ as my wife calls it.

‘I’m out here,’ she continues, ‘busting my arse trying to fix this shit. And these lazy twat schools aren’t even willing to pay for their own surveys. When they’re putting little kiddies’ lives in danger. That’s no better than Brady and Hindley to me.’

‘They say there’s no money. But you said you’ve given them tons.’ ‘That was,’ I explain delicately, ‘more of a public-facing statement. In fact they don’t have any.’

‘Well hold a Harvest Fayre then,’ she said. ‘Shake the tin in assembly. Either way I’ve done all I can, so I’m washing my hands of a clear conscience. And all this bollocks about my other half getting rich from it? It’s piss-all. He makes all his money in weapons.’

‘Thanks Gillian,’ I say decisively, hanging up, already looking forward to what a pleasure her resignation letter will be. In fact I might make a start on it today.