Waking with a hangover so intense my eyeballs are hanging from their sockets, I guzzle a tank of water, spitting out the goldfish, and check on my latest single's progress.

The novelty record is called There’s No Cunt Quite Like A Public School Cunt, featuring flautist James Galway. Despite being banned by the BBC and all commercial outlets, it's topped the charts for six weeks, though Spotify only paid me 87 pence. Time to record my next hit, There’s No Fucker Quite Like That Fucker Who Owns Spotify.

After a light breakfast, I peruse a periodical revealing Andy Burnham's EU stance and endorsement of Shabana Mahmood's 'Trumpian' immigration policies. My reaction? A tirade against political flip-flopping, with Burnham morphing into Keir Starmer.

Switching channels, I remember the FA Cup final between Chelsea and Manchester City. A snooze-fest! Both teams should’ve lost. Where’s the rule change for that?

Labour boasts about immigration hitting its lowest since 2021, but public perception disagrees. Those uninformed masses, manipulated by tabloids and GB News, need immigrants more than ever. Who’ll care for them when they're senile?

Lastly, concerns rise over the 2026 World Cup in the US. Could it be a 'washout' with empty venues? Let’s hope so. With a president elected twice by mistake, it could rival the Olympics in disaster. Relocate to Canada, I say! Good luck getting that trophy back from Trump!