For all those sad bastards checking in here instead of doing something more worthwhile with their last few days of the year, don't feel too bad. After all, Our Man's wasted more time writing this than it takes you to read it, unless you are a really slow reader (or PR news release writer).
But anyway, so Hatoyama's Cabinet has rubber stamped a squillion billion budget, loads of dead anchovies have washed up on Chiba's shores and Our Man has just finished painting his front door "Chocolate Colour" (that's what it said on the tin. It looks kind of rust red to anyone that didn't read the tin though).
Our Man is just killing time while Our Woman rustles up a nabe (kind of like a casserole stew that you cook at the dinnertable) ready to welcome old friends from the motherland who are staying the night. So in Walter Cronkite fashion, may Our Man sign off for the evening with a homely truism:
That's Our Man's world, such as it is.