Following on from the phenomenal success of my ticced zodiac last month, I thought I’d turn my Tour-voyant hand to palm reading. Although I wasn’t able to attract a big crowd eager to have their fortunes told, I did convince Leftwing Idiot, King Russell and Mr Otter it was a good idea. My readings went like this:

Leftwing Idiot
It says you’re a leftwing idiot and you like hamsters. This bit here says you should have been born on a motorway but you were actually born in Holborn. This bit here says turn right at a junction, and then suck your mum’s meatballs round Stu’s house. It says smile more and you’ll be happier and then this is the bit where you die. Oh, but first there’s a bit where you plant eighteen trees and everybody claps you. There’s the bit where you have eight kids and they’re all called Brian. You call them all Brian. This is the bit where you let me name your children Brian, even the girls. You let me call your eighty-two girl kids Brian. You’re going to live in a house surrounded by women and they’re all going to mother you and you’re going to be a cock! Say ‘I love it.’

King Russell
I’m going to read your palm a story about cabbages. I’m happy slapping your hand. There’s a line that says you’re a sheepdog. There’s a line that says you should’ve been a train driver. There’s a line that says you’re under the thumb of your wife, there’s a trackball mouse in your bedroom. There’s a line that says you really do like corded phones but you shouldn’t use them. There’s a line that says give up on email and use a fax machine. Look, there’s one here that says you should wear a crown of thorns and date Diana Ross. And then here’s where your mum says, “Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday.” You married my sister, she killed you in a hit and run accident, and then you came back to life and you made a baby called Heston Blumenthal. Santa died, and then you lived happily every after with a fox.

Mr Otter
Mr Otter I love your velvety palm. This bit here says your 42% polyester, polyester Mr Otter. Squirrels. This bit says you would’ve been a squirrel but your mum had sex with a fish. This is the bit that says you love all the species. This is the bit that says you love me. This is the bit where you have a cake. This is the bit where you swim in Florida. This bit is the bit that says you’ve got a stain on you from a bit of sticky, sticky chewing gum. There’s somebody’s thumb sticking inside your body! This is the bit that says, “I love you Mr Otter.” This is the bit where Mr Otter dies and everybody cries and the world ends. Discos.

I then offered some general (and invaluable) advice, which I’m sharing with you here absolutely free of charge:

What should you look out for in a palm? If you’ve got some lines on your hands it means that you’ve lived a life. If you’ve got nail fibres, you’re a man. If you’ve got a swash-buckling hamster, you’re destined to live in a gypsy caravan. If you’ve got a vein near the surface, it means that the river of Harrison Ford runs though your veins. If you’ve got eighteen creases up the side it means you’re really a princess – a Princess Leia lookalike from Harlesden. If you’ve got 14% more knuckle than a horse then you should move to Santa Barbara. If your skin is mottled you should take a bath.

If you’ve got very tough hands, you should wear Latex gloves when cleaning your mum’s bowl out. If you’ve got very soft hands you should advertise stuff for QVC and toilet roll. I love toilet roll. If you’ve got eight fingers, then something’s gone wrong. If you’ve got a chubby forefinger then you might be an alien. If the join between your hand and your wrist is buff, congratulations, if it’s creased, commiserations. If it’s green, get off the telly. I love Don King.

If you’ve got a crease running from the left of your hand to the right of your hand then, uh oh, it’s fallen off. Cut along the dotted line. If you can fold your hand into an origami caterpillar, take a picture and you’ll win a prize. I love it. Creasy fingers mean you make delicious pies. On your marks, get set, fishing! Bye, bye!