another week without the truth

I was watching the television on Friday evening when I realised I'd somehow missed nearly a whole week of the news.

That the G8(?) had got together and belatedly compared spring knitwear.

That there are now enough draft versions of the New Drachma to mean that De La Rue won't need to print any.

That those light weight pound coins I sometimes get must be part of the one in thirty forgeries in circulation.

That the newly issued pound coins do actually feel and look a bit like forgeries.

That an oppressive oil-rich regime is staging this year's kitch European song-fest.

That it's not about the music, it's all about the bloc-vote (I knew that anyway).

That the UK is probably the largest foreign investor in this Caspian oil pool.

That absolutely everyone in UK Government was completely unaware that the person put in charge of the Sky bid may have pre-judged it's outcome.

That the top guns under investigation in the Leveson enquiry are all being stacked up for the Jubilee weekend - papa, buddy, the boss.

That the use of the nicknames and initials add an extra layer of deniability.

That the list of awkward attendees to the Games is now arriving on William Hague's desk. Should Syrian Generals and other figures running oppressive regimes be allowed?

That the flame is already in Wales.

And, finally, that photo-sheik will become an accidental fashion craze as paps swarm to Broadway Market to snap cool east Londoners who've already gone to Borough to avoid the scrum.