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WAKING in my own bed, calling for a cleric to fetch hither my breakfast of grilled kippers and my usual tincture of laudanum and absinthe, I enjoy my first Sunday morning off in years.

YOU’D never guess based on my confident, cool exterior, but secretly I’m a little bit nerdy. Specifically an otaku who loves anything anime who just landed in Tokyo.

STILL smoking hot at 53, Jennifer Lopez explains how she’ll remain a Hollywood miracle past being octogenarian and from beyond the grave.

ENOUGH wishy-washy centrism. The voters hate it or they would have voted Lib Dem. Doubt not, Conservatives. There is always further right.

JOSH Gardner, who turns every possible shag into friendship, is dating Helen Archer. Can he keep it romantic or will he end being like a brother again?

You still have to get a chair from the kitchen, stand on it, unscrew the old one then put the new one in. These so-called energy-saving lightbulbs are a load of bollocks.

WAKING in a palatial chamber after a convivial evening at Clarence House, I find myself locked in the warm embrace of a woman purring sweet nothings.

SHE’S not carrying it. It’s just casually holstered at her waist, like everyone’s rocking the everyday accessory of a sword and swordbelt.

AMERICAN TikTokers, slagging off our good old British Chinese? Who do they think they are? That’s our national Friday night cuisine.

YOU’VE heard her songs without realising and asked ‘which one’s that?’ at the Met Gala, but Doja Cat is far more famous than those you consider A-list celebrities.