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The Archbishop of Canterbury on... mad old racist Uncle Tony

WAKING with a headache screaming like a guitar solo by the late Jimi Hendrix, I proudly reflect on my efforts to put on a concert in which Noel and Liam Gallagher join me to perform religious songs such as Kumbaya, My Lord. 

We won two world wars to put up with this bollocks: The gammon food critic visits a bierkeller

THIS might surprise you, but I’ve never had much time for the Germans. No sense of humour. Bloody awful electronic pop music. The food's not fit to give the dog. And I haven't even mentioned Hitler yet.

How to judge other people's shopping baskets while they're judging yours

SHOPPING late? Judging others by the content of their baskets, while never imagining they’re doing exactly the same to you? This is what you both think.

This week in Mash History: Isambard Kingdom Brunel invents hip hop nomenclature, 1836

ISAMBARD Kingdom Brunel is widely regarded as the father of modern engineering, and the owner of a sick name that goes unnecessarily hard.

Your astrological week ahead for August 30th, with Psychic Bob

Lurpak is so expensive it’ll soon be turning up in hip hop videos.

The Archbishop of Canterbury on... how can things 'get a lot worse'? Cannibalism?

WAKING up with a particularly intense hangover I realise I have grown a second head, this being the only way my constitution could cope with the cerebral strain of my imbibing.

A white home counties roadman and him's crew flex swag at da seaside retail park

WAGWAN? Man is da most gassed hever, bruv. Mandem crew went to da seaside, an’ ‘ad da worst day hever which turned into da best day hever.

Heartbroken man greatly cheered by brutal piss-taking from mates

A MAN despondent about losing his girlfriend has felt his sour mood lift after merciless piss-taking from his mates.

Your astrological week ahead for August 24th, with Psychic Bob

Today is purple bin day. Remember to put all your hopes, dreams and aspirations inside.

The Archbishop of Canterbury on... King Charles banknotes. These are fake, right?

WAKING up on a cobbled street, my head feeling like the ecosystem of the planet Mercury, it becomes clear I have somehow been transported back in time to somewhere between 1987 and 1992.