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WAKING with a hangover so excruciating that I consider deploying the self-assembled guillotine gifted to me by the Archbishop of Amiens, I reflect on the events of the last week.

FOR too long the Hollywood box office has pigeon-holed my acting abilities. Post-Smashing Machine I'll be taken seriously, and I'll be able to put my own stamp on these iconic TV roles.

My unc landlord gave me some sus news today. He’s learned there are bigger numbers than the one he’s currently charging me for rent and is upping payments accordingly. I’m chopped.

You know how you deal with a jellyfish sting? You don’t let his insults get to you in the first place.

WAKING with a hangover so intense that some sort of silver liquid matter is dribbling from my ears, I reflect upon meeting President Trump during his visit to the UK. 

I SCAN their social media. I monitor their conversations. I can tell they’re thinking it. So why won’t our homegrown liberals badmouth Charlie Kirk so I can snitch on them?

HANNAH Tomlinson, known to her coven as 28-year-old Isolde Hexebane, wonders if Tom Logan, aged 28, is The One whose sacrifice her dark masters crave?

‘Oh I do like to be beside the seaside,’ quoth the seagull.

WAKING with a hangover so intense I shat out both my kidneys and an auxiliary third one I had transplanted, my mind turned to strangely relevant historical events.

NOTHING can be as nature intended these days. Women who think they're men. Men who think they're women. The 'gender neutral' lot who claim to be neither when a quick look in their pants would clear it up once and for all.