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Tuesday May 23rd 2017

Borrowscope

Aquarius (20/1-19/2)
Congratulations, you’re Aquarius. Your birthday is probably really soon. For those of you who have already celebrated, I think you dropped your phone in the second cubicle at the Priory. Good luck getting a new one as you forgot to pay last month’s gadget insurance premium. Twat.

Pisces (20/2-20/3)
Unlike most people, my heart only pumps once a year. The rest of the time my blood circulates through fear of being called lazy. Once, I was presumed dead, and buried. I was exhumed a week later. I don’t remember anything except a lovely dream about being a worm.

Aries (21/3-19/4)
You were so impressed with your friend’s theory on penis-zone intrusion that you decided to test it out in a new pub. Unfortunately you should have kept your trousers on, and are now awaiting trial.

Taurus (20/4-20/5)
You tripped up a kerb and stubbed your toe. This was no-one’s fault but your own, mister “I can handle ten Stellas”.

Gemini (21/5-20/6)
That milk in that tea you had on Tuesday was definitely off.

Cancer (21/6-22/7)
Selling your twin-sign friend that three-day out-of-date milk with the date changed was a low move. Look, he’s all sicky now! I hope you’re proud.

Leo (23/7-22/8)
You might want to check your Facebook status. When you Googled “Girls aged 26 pretending to be 14”, you were in the wrong tab…

Virgo (23/8-22/9)
Well John, this week was good but it didn’t go quite so well. The smaller pool table meant your trickshot backfired spectacularly as the cue ball hit someone’s nan in the face. Luckily she had already removed her false teeth to remove traces of Walker’s Salt & Vinegar, so no damage done sir.

Libra (23/9-23/10)
I don’t think I need to tell you why you feel disgusted with yourself after eating nine burgers, two pizzas and a small kebab on Friday.
You should have had the large kebab, you fucking lightweight.

Scorpio (24/10-21/11)
I know you’ve done a lot of acid, but Scorpio is just a star sign. You’re not a scorpion, or indeed a mid-nineties salesman’s luxury saloon produced by Ford. Stop trying to sting people and/or run them over.

Sagittarius (22/11-21/12)
“High tea” does not involve mixing weed and PG Tips, you fucking retard. Next time, stick to cakes, scones, jam and cream.

Capricorn (22/12-19/1)
That knock on the door the other night, which you ignored, was your long-lost brother, who has taken five years to get up the courage to visit you, you insensitive shit.
Also, remember to pay the electricity bill.

Benny T. Bean

Benny T. Bean (of indeterminate age – so far carbon-dating has proved unreliable) began his formal education under the tutelage of Kirklawitz Munkapunk at the University of Firm Nudges, graduating in the summer of ’99 and receiving a doctorate in ‘Being quite good at writing ‘n’ that’.

Spending the next 11 years in an acid-haze (believing himself to be a tramp by the name of Grubby Pete), B.T.B. soon cleaned-up his act after a chance meeting with Francisco Sanchez. Sanchez immediately cognized Pete’s steaming, yellowed genius and sequestered his writing talents for the Citizen.

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