Neck out-sticking time. I don’t know why, but I feel the urge.
From our if-only department
Bush or Cheney will be impeached and/or defenestrated, in a shock scales-falling-from-eyes moment in the US.
The Dear Leader resigns, probably in the early autumn, and is replaced by Gordon Brown to nobody’s great surprise.
Take it as read that Charles Kennedy is a goner. My money’s on Mark Oaten as the replacement, but Lembit Opik’s a good bet too.
A citizen journalist dies trying to get a unique angle on a story. There is much wailing and gnashing. The death of the net is predicted.
Thar she blows
Another record-breaking Hurricane season in the Atlantic. This time Miami gets it. There are few deaths due to Miami’s preparedness, and Jeb Bush uses this as a springboard for a presidential run.
Thar she also blows
Mount St Helens.
Just enough of the new Wembley is complete on time to hold the FA Cup Final. But it’s a bit of a shambles. All-Premiership semi-finals, very tedious.
Germany win the World Cup. England reach the quarter-finals as per, but no further.
Oh, something like “ubertags” (just googled it: 11,800 hits). How about “reputagging” (no hits).
Avaragado sees not one but two weddings this year in his general vicinity.
There you go: a bunch of lovely predictions. Remind me in a year’s time…