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Has anyone got any idea where I left my car? with Austin Butler

I love visiting the UK. London’s so vibrant and I want to tread the boards on the West End someday. But for now, does anyone know where the f**k my car is?

Mash Blind Date: a woman who's only after casual sex and a man who is too but thinks she shouldn't be

JORA, aged 26, is looking for no-strings casual one-night sex. So is Tom, aged 28, who firmly believes that’s not what women should want. Will they hook up?

Sexual fetishes ranked by their gag-inducing grossness

WHEN you’re sharing your sexual fantasies with your lover, everything open, no judgement, you instinctively know: not that one.

Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Greggs have released a seasonal Ennui Bake capturing the feeling of late winter in Britain. It has a grey, cold filling and lasts for days and days and days. £1.99.

The Archbishop of Canterbury on... Manchester twatting City

WAKING in a basket below a large, white balloon floating high in the stratosphere, I am dimly aware of the roar of incoming Sidewinder missiles.

'This is piss all to do with you. Frankly I'm ashamed to be resigning under such a shitey prime minister,' she said. 'Thank you, Nicola,' I replied

RELATIONS between Downing Street and Bute House have always been cordial, except when the phone rings late at night. ‘Is that the useless wee bastard?’ Nicola asks.

Pasta, pizza, and military cowardice: The gammon food critic goes Italian

I'VE never liked Italy. Opera, fussy paintings and footballers rolling around on the floor like they've been shot.

A confused Millennial discovers… Nazis aren't fictional

ME and the Nazis go way back: the Wolfenstein games, the Nazi zombies in Call of Duty and Dead Snow, and of course as a point of comparison on the internet.

Six nationalities I have no problem with at all, by Jeremy Clarkson

BROADCASTER, writer and misogynistic fantasist Jeremy Clarkson has travelled the world spreading ignorance, but which nationalities is he perfectly okay with?

Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

What if the selling-roses-in-nightclubs-man was Eros all along, and buying one would have led you straight to the love of your life? And you told him ‘fuck off’?