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Let's move to a historic capital city that'll soon be underwater! This week: Dublin

Birthplace of Oscar Wilde, WB Yeats, James Joyce, and George Bernard Shaw, who all emigrated as soon as possible, Dublin is truly one of Europe’s great cultural centers.

Mash Blind Date: 'Being stood up went better than 90 per cent of my dates'

IS it wrong for a 34-year-old career woman to find more fulfilment in the vacant space where her date should be than if he was present?

Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

All this really drives home that Charles isn’t even going to manage a Silver Jubilee, doesn’t it? Poor prick will be lucky to make Tin.

The Archbishop of Canterbury on... Her twatting Majesty

FOLLOWING an inebriated altercation with a Songs of Praise runner – these things frequently happen in the ‘rough and tumble’ of religious broadcasting – I wake in a cell.

Outdated monarchical heads-of-state are on borrowed time. I'm prettier than Kate

We need a head of state, people say. For visiting dignitaries, for high-profile summits, to express the national mood on key occasions. And I say ‘voila’.

The BBC is celebrating 70 years of trying to destroy the Queen. Will they succeed?

FOR as long as any of us can remember, the BBC has sworn to destroy everything great and good about this country. So of course they began with the Queen.

Let's move to the set of Bridgerton built by the slave trade! This week: Bath

Jane Austen lived here briefly and hated it. But if you like narrow streets clogged with dawdling tourists taking photos every six feet, you’ll love it.

Mash Blind Date: Prince Andrew and the grateful, celebrating nation he'd like to love him again

BRITAIN: riding a wave of beer-soaked nostalgia for our monarch all week. Prince Andrew: ready to be taken back into our hearts. Can it happen?

Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

The fact that you still have plans this weekend suggests cancel culture actually hasn’t gone far enough.

The Archbishop of Canterbury on... the Sue sodding Grey report

GAINING consciousness in a skip, having failed to reach my chambers after a wine-drinking contest with Cardinal Nichols turned ugly, I urinate for a full 22 minutes then head home.