This week in little ol' Britain...

OMG, this is, like sooo exciting! I mean, OH MY GAWD! I've never actually seen a real proper pandemic. Is this what it looks like? Cold drizzly windy weather and a hint of sunshine in the South? Is it, like, really dangereous? Because the papers say its gonna be HUGE! How cool is that? We might even NOT have a cup final. Is that even allowed? Won't the FA strike about that or somethink?

Yup peeps - this week we are on standby now for a flu pandemic and the big pharmaceuticals are literally skipping for joy. Well, there won't be any redundancies this quarter for those guys, eh? Yup pharmaceutica big-bosses and bankers can now count themselves as the only two professions to remain relatively redundancy-safe in the recession, as the bankers have awarded themselves a payrise, again. And justified it by sending a toffy yah-type with a voice straight from the home counties (and a bank account is Switzerland, no doubt) on to the news channels to tell everyone what a great job they were doing. Yes, yes... of course you deserved it... and the yacht... yes... and the private chauffeur... private school for the kids? Heck, why not? Its not like I'm stuck for cash...

It is now univerally acknowledged that everyone pretty much despises Brown for being a generally curmudgeonly type of leader whose only skill is... no, wait, what is his only skill? (Poor chap. He only wanted to be loved. He's a bit like one of those really unfortunately charmless puppies that end up spending their lives being re-homed because their lack of charisma or ability to do anything vaguely entertaining is mistaken for a more workman-like nature. Its only when the owners take him home and realise, no, he really is a bit crap and boring, and not only lacks the ability to do anything useful, but also doesn't entertain them in a puppyish way, that he finally gets returned to the RSPCA and is perpetually doomed to be returned, unwanted, forevermore. Because, lets face it, no-one wants a puppy that shits on the carpet and doesn't even look doleful or apologetic about it.)

Anyway, Joanna Lumley has been elevated to national treasure status for her celebrity support of the Gurkhas (fair do's - they DID fight for the UK, so why can't they live here? It does seem fair to let them stay here...). The Daily Mail has, for once (cue sharp intake of breath as all white van men countrywide read this), actually supported the concept of immigration (though they make the exception only 'cos these great Gurkha lads fought for Queen and Country, mind...). Nick Clegg managed the unprecendented move of acting more like the leader of the opposition than the leader of the opposition. And the leader of the opposition is now openly being referred to as 'probably the next prime minister' by the press. Its true. Even Jon Snow uttered it. A bit presumptive of them (they clearly haven't considered the might of the Monster Raving Loony Party) but we'll let it go, but only because it might actually be true. Unless Joanna Lumley decides to stand, that is.

And bless, as if they haven't got enough to contend with - wot with having a short-but-simple life scratching around in muck, and then having it all ended just 'cos we fancy a nice bit of bangers and mash - the poor wee piggies are being blamed for flu now. Its hardly their fault. Its not like they can carry a set of kleenex around in their trotters ready to catch a straying sniffle.

So the papers (amidst their mass-flu-panic headlines proclaiming the end of the world is nigh) are reporting that the whole swine flu thing is causing untold political correctness headaches in the Middle East; I guess the concept of a flu virus originating from pigs isn't really not a popular thought there, eh? So the Mexicans are getting the blame instead. Which is does make the whole thing sound a smidging more exotic and glamorous, to be fair, and I might just adopt the name Mexican flu, too. It really does sound ever so much more like something you'd just pick up at duty free, especially if you call it Influenza Mexicana...

Mmmm, in fact it sounds like a rather delightful cocktail: "What did you get in Cancun, darling?", "Oh, just some Influenza Mexicana, and a bottle of tequila for Bob down the road for looking after the cat." "Lovely thought. Who's the Influenza Mexicana for?" "Well... I thought I'd share it with everyone down the local when we get back. I stocked up while I was there. Its soooo cheap out there, I kid you not. Got quite a bit." "Sounds delightful. Do you mind if I try some as well, then?"