Forget the next six weeks. Remember the past 13 years!/March 29th 2010

Richie - Wednesday I see Dr Singh about a most delicate matter. After prodding my wobbly bits and listening to my internal goings-on with his stethescope, he asks what's wrong. "It's my leg. There's something growing on it." I roll up my trouser and point to a pale, fleshy lump part way down the shin. The lump is smooth with a vague, upper-class demeanour. "I call it my little Cameron" I say. "It appears to be benign but I'm not so sure." Dr Singh soon offers his verdict. "It's a parasite, Bob, and it needs lancing before it spreads!" Within an hour nurse Marge Breakwell has done the deed and cut away little Cameron, putting the putrid specimen in a jar as a souvenir. Later in the snug as we watch the budget Big Frank the landlord sets my growth above the optics as a macabre curiosity. But would you believe it, Richie, the thing only turns red as a beetroot when Darling announces the 1 per cent increase in top stamp duty and the sharing of tax info with Belize! Mad innit !