So, the term has finished......

and my exams are over for now as well as a hectic term trying to keep up with the challenges of the course I am doing in Journalism. So a welcome break then?


Well no......Journalism is less a 9-5 more a vocation, something you cant switch off from- shorthand still needs practice for one thing. There is an essay due after christmas too so....some rest but still a to do tray.


Not to mention the nice array of football matches to get fat on this christmas, tomorrow I am up at some hour I really dont wanna visit often in the morning to get to Stamford Bridge. Why? Yes I am probably insane. I think Nick Hornby said it best with his book called fever pitch. Yes I have football fever. Anyway the purpose of said jaunt is to get an official coach to Goodison Park home of the Toffees, or to the uninitiated Everton FC. Hopefully the journey home will be accompanied by a sweet three points! Then its up to Newcastle on weds! followed by more games and more games!


So.......my christmas is going to be nicely spent with some cement between the football bricks being meetings with my friends and family at various points!

oh and the return of a certain Doctor..........


Happy christmas all! Whatever you are doing!

So Gordon Brown has deliverd his final Budget.....


And the response could be summed up with the classic use of a rewrite of a Stranglers song:


Here is Gordon Brown:

Gordon Brown taxing for fun
raising up, with our money he runs
Bring out the kite
No more cheap flights,
Never a pound with Gordon Brown

Every budget just like the last:
”No blips unlike Tories past,”
Tory’s scent gains,
flex Osborne’s brains
Ever a moan with Gordon Brown

Gordon brown: finer in excess
Through no peerages he's heading

West
To number ten
prays for the day
Blair leaves a clown in Gordon Brown

Labour will frown
With Gordon Brown
Labour will frown
With Gordon Brown

Environmentalists say he has not gone far enough and for once that green tax will not be the only or indeed enough of a solution. Motorists, business, particularly airlines, and the ordinary average income bod on the street have been annoyed saying the rises are excessive for all the good they will do. The Tories meanwhile led by Labour baiter deputy in chief Osborne have been beavering away at Gorgeous Gord's economic foundations on which he plans to launch his Prime Ministerial leadership when he takes over from the fatally damaged Blair.

The "flyweight" in the Blue Corner has decided to duck the "Great Clunking Fist" of the "Heavyweight" and moved in close with his scalpel to claim, in my own simple terms: Brown's pants should have skidmarks. Brown may not have had a catastrope (yet) like Black Wednesday but, Osborne contends in an article by the Times, Brown presides over a little shop of economic horrors. It is these that are catching up with us and Brown. In another Times article his Budget is criticised for its lack of new and imaginative ideas, being content to meander along the same old lines with some minor extensions.

It seems that Brown's PM bid is being scuttled before the champagne bottle christens the good ship Gord with the invisible hand of Murdoch maybe wavering in its support of the Red team from Millbank.

Nonetheless barring a complete Ed Balls up from Labour, Brown should enjoy a "Major". That is just about winning an election he probably should lose. After all, the rumblings may only be beginning and opposition parties always get a boost during a parliament as a warning to government. Come general elections though, short of complete discreditation it seems a case of better the devil you know rather than a Macavity who you cant pin down. (Note in no way is David Cameron like Macavity in his other activities/attributes and neither am I suggesting so).

So Mr Cameron, if you do wish to win the election, the honeymoon is over. Your new year's resolution should you choose to accept it is to make some concrete policies which people can decide they actually like or not. The public like the talk but they want the walk. If your policies float like a butterfly then sting like a bee and give Brown some concrete shoes, its sink or swim gentlemen, sink or swim.