THE alfresco hot tub bubbled away untroubled by the Taoiseach.

SAY what you like about wartime British efforts to turn Hitler into a woman, but at least they recognised a problem and tried to solve it.

THE suggestion that FF might nominate a candidate for the presidency was made for the same reason that people such as Biffo and Bertie now live on large pensions, after destroying the country’s economy and many thousands of the lives that are/were forced to pay for their luxury.

A MAN who decided it would be fun to try and split the atom on his kitchen stove is now facing two years in jail.

STRANGE times in Belgium as the country enters its 55th week without a Government and one of its few cultural exports, The Smurfs, are outed as racists.

ENDA is from Mars, Eamon is from Venus and both have been running Planet Bankrupt for the past 100 days.

BEHOLD, the Dither Twins!

OH, what a Fianna Farce.

2010 was a disastrous one for Taoiseach Brian Cowen, but he is far from alone, writes Shaun Connolly, Political Correspondent

AND so Biffo awakes — although more Sleeping Brutey than Beauty.

SIMPLY red or just simply ridiculous? Opinion was divided on Labour’s budget plans.

THE Dáil Film Festival was in full flight.

JOBS! Jobs! Jobs!

SHAM marriages dominated the Dáil yesterday.

THE MacGill summer school is a bit like Glastonbury for geeks.

THE Dáil bar was doing a roaring trade after all the NAMA drama, but the three main party leaders were noticeable by their absence.

WHETHER you’re a Tubridy fan or a Tubridy hater, there’s little doubting that RTÉ’s golden boy last night landed a swift punch at detractors who questioned his capacity to really give Taoiseach Brian Cowen a grilling.

MERCIFULLY the election campaign is over. Some will say it was the essence of democracy, but the whole thing was particularly tedious.

BY describing the kerfuffle on the prospect of a property tax as “speculation” Taoiseach Brian Cowen, speaking in Davros, is either firmly focussed on the long game or, as his detractors suggest, is once again dodging the hard question; once again freezing in the headlights.

’TWAS the nightmare before Christmas, when all through Leinster House, not a cabinet creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

IT was all blacks and yet more red as Brian Cowen went down for the Dáil scrum, his much-vaunted bank bailout looking dangerously close to being kicked into touch.

IT WAS a case of “Crouching Taoiseach, Hidden Dangers” as Brian Cowen completed his troubled tour of the Orient last night.

THEY met near the Temple of Heaven, for Brian Cowen it was an encounter worth flying halfway across the globe for, for his Chinese host it was just another diplomatic speed date.

A QUARTER of humanity held its collective breath and hoped the Taoiseach would change his mind.

DAY two of The Emergency began badly and got worse as it became clear Tánaiste Mary Coughlan would be our hostess for this edition of the risky business roller coaster ride.

AS the U2 front man and the Taoiseach joined forces to rally the world on Africa an awesome geopolitical force was born — Boniffo.

THE searing heat and dust storms swirling through the white tent city gave the National Ploughing Championships the look of a refugee camp as Brian Cowen descended from the skies in his helicopter.

HE ROSE a taoiseach and sat down as Bertie the backbencher.

WITH Brown in across the water and Biffo awaiting his chance here, we can all look forward to a charm-free future in Anglo-Irish relations.

YES JIMMY HA, last season's Derby winner at Clonmel, made a successful start to his all-aged career when taking the Red Mills Knockgraffon Cup at New Inn yesterday.

LIKE a lion that has just feasted on an antelope, Brian Cowen cast a lazy eye across the sleepy savannah that was the Dáil chamber yesterday morning.

IF you look through the cronies of Tony’s who make up the British cabinet, you thank God for small mercies.

JOUEUR D’ESTRUVAL, successful in the race a year ago, can do the business again in the Imperial Call Chase at Cork this afternoon.

One day a certain party by the name of Preference Purcell sends word he wishes to lunch with me.