This week... Brace yourself, it's coming...

Commentary

"We are living on the brink of the apocalypse, but the world is asleep." – Joel C. Rosenberg

"The Pacific is the best toilet for satellites." – Neil deGrasse Tyson

"The stars are matter, we're matter, but it doesn't matter." – Captain Beefheart

Well, well, well… Here we are. What a bloody mess, wouldn't you agree? Big Boris looks set to see in the apocalypse and Jeremy Hunt is in hot pursuit. How did it all come to this? Such a catastrophic end… Sometimes it feels as if we are living in some sort of reality television series, Britain's got Talent? Get tae fuck… Britain's got Problems more like, and some big bundling Tory sized problems at that. Ah well, at least we can still relish in the fact that we will soon be amidst the stars having drowned in plastic whilst watching Love Island – a great big nuclear bomb sending a thousand million tesco bags into space, the joy…

ANYWAY… Moving swiftly on, Jim Broadbent has a shed, a haunted shed full of weird people he makes with his own two hands. The internet is going mad for it, bloody hell Jim…

This week we got our sink fixed at the Ransom Note office, it was quite an ordeal, loads of dodgy pipes and this bastard kept trying to fight the plumber and up the pressure…

Meanwhile, Glastonbury lurks suspiciously round the corner, it promises so much and welcomes us with warm open arms… Much like Michael himself who looks as thought he hasn't aged since birth. He probably came out of the womb wearing a nice shirt and a glistening beard… Bald as a bastard but beautiful in his own weird way… Here's a highlight reel…