Blimey, it’s a right royal circus in your gaff, ain’t it? It’s like Battersea Dogs Home during a full moon, you’ve got more waifs and strays popping in than a chippy on a Friday night. The neighbours, the postman, the milkman, even the local Jehovah’s are treating your place like it’s bloody Tesco. And don’t get me started on the ankle-biters, they’re running rampage like a pack of wild hyenas. They’ve taken over your house for a sleepover, but the only thing not sleeping is you. You’re up all night, listening to their jabbering and wishing for a moment of peace, like a nun in a brothel. You’re begging for a moment to yourself, but with your luck, you’d probably just end up with the Jehovah’s knocking again. Oh, the humanity! Lucky phrase for you: “I’d have more luck getting a word in edgewise at a hen party!” Now that’s something you can mutter under your breath next time the chaos kicks off. And remember, a little gin in the teapot never hurt anyone… well, except Auntie Doris, but we don’t talk about that.

Come back tomorrow for another exciting horoscope!