Happy New Year, loyal serfs. And I mean that advisedly. I am facing up to the impending loss of my job, unless Gordo can pull off a miracle greater than, well, the latest bumper Christmas trailed exclusively by all of the grocers at the same time and in all the same news channels.

Odd, isn't it? The country is going to hell in a handcart, the recession is costing us more than Tiger Woods has paid out in room service and the bank bailout is hurting us in places where the sun hasn't shone for years, and yet we're all still out pissing our hard-earned cash (or in the case of the Pumsey household YOUR hard-earned cash) up a variety of town centre walls for increasingly nasty examples of overpriced tat.

Seems this is the new definition of freakononomics - the "spending-led recovery" in which the unemployable masses borrow funds from bankrupt nationalised banks in order to fill the coffers of the super-rich, thus somehow creating an illusory economic boom that will see us all happy as larks. That's the theory, at any rate.

As you can tell this is why I became a true socialist. Oh, of course, I'm making savings in my ministry. Why, only recently I began to use humble Waitrose Essentials Cava to flush the lavvies at DRIP Towers you can imagine the savings in Laurent Perrier are quite significant and will be devoted to job-creating schemes in the community. The community in question being the downtrodden if not entirely unappealing entertainment workers of Spearmint Rhino, at any rate.

But with the last gasp of this gradually asphyxiating government I have been charged with performing a competition analysis of the ghastly Kraftwerk Inc's proposed takeover of Cadbury. I'm not inclined to perform any actual work on this fatuous task, since it seems to me that any company intending to make an acquisition in Birmingham is sufficiently unsound in mind to be disqualified from doing so.

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