A major (well maybe not that major) shock to start the year, as Ian Paisley and Martin McGuinness are discovered in bed together. "It's just that he makes me laugh," says a sheepish McGuinness. "At least I won't have to pay the Whore of Babylon anymore," says Paisley. "Talk about the coming of the Lord."

Many newspaper columns are written about the great step forward for Northern Ireland that the affair represents. The "Save Ulster for Sodomy" campaign is launched.

Mary Harney unveils her revolutionary new health strategy. Patients with serious illnesses will be encouraged to cure themselves by creating a hospital-type atmosphere in their own home. The chronically sick will be sent a copy of the Operation game, a box set of The Clinic and nurses' uniforms, bulk bought from the nation's top sex shops. They'll be able to cheer themselves up by reflecting on the fact that, no matter how bad things get, they'll never look as miserable as Gary Lydon and Aisling O'Sullivan do in an average episode of The Clinic .

The Government concretes over the lakes of Killarney to create an enormous dumping site. The Green Party says there's no point in overreacting to events as the stability of the Government is the important thing -- and doesn't John Gormley look really nice in his new office?

FEBRUARY

Bertie Ahern claims that money found in his bank account was actually given to him for his First Holy Communion. Fianna Fail supporters write letters to the papers claiming that the tribunal has gone too far this time. When a tribunal lawyer points out that the money was actually lodged many years after the Taoiseach's Communion, Bertie points out that many Irish people are reputed to still have their Communion money and accuses the tribunal of being against religion. Brian Cowen closes down the tribunal on the grounds of blasphemy. "Don't give me any lip," he tells critics of the move. "I've got enough already."

Hundreds of complete gobshites call Liveline to complain that the Irish soccer team haven't won a single match since new manager Terry Venables took over, and demand that the head of the FAI President, John Delaney, be placed on top of the Spike on O'Connell Street. Delaney counters with the flimsy excuse that Ireland haven't actually played any games under the new manager yet. "I don't think our callers will accept that," says Duffy, who later that night appears on The View and comments that the new John Banville novel doesn't have many pictures in it.

MARCH

A tsunami kills 30 million people in Asia. Brenda Power in the Sunday Times and some people in the Irish Times whose names I can't think of at the moment write hand-wringing articles suggesting that we are all to blame, but that the Sunday Independent is more to blame than most. Vincent Browne writes a column blaming the Irish Labour Party.

The Government executes the Rossport Five. It emerges that the men were tortured before their deaths by being forced to watch video footage of Mayo football teams playing in the All-Ireland final. The Green Party says there's no point in overreacting to events as the stability of the Government is the important thing -- and doesn't John Gormley look nice in his new office?

APRIL

Ireland's Eurovision entry is called: Fundamentally Altering the Economic Paradigm of Postmodern society by taking account of the Lessons of Structuralist Textual Analysis, written by Fintan O'Toole and sung by the Wolfe Tones. The song not only finishes last but earns Ireland a 10-year ban from the competition, thus scuppering RTE's plans to feature an entry from a different Irish Times columnist every year. The Oul' GAA is Much Better Than the Oul' Soccer by Tom Humphries, Is This My Arse or Is This My Elbow? by Eileen Battersby and, Dum de dum, Have I Come to the End of the Page Yet? by Roisin Ingle will thus go unheard by you, the great Irish public.

There is controversy after RTE screens a documentary called The Killings at Auschwitz. Members of the Inane Historical Society accuse the documentary makers of producing a piece of blatant anti-republican propaganda. When the programme maker, Solly Glickstein, points out that he's never been to Ireland, the Inane boys say that he highlighted the Holocaust just to make Irish people feel bad about the country's neutral stance in the Second World War. Amateur historian Labhras O'Lunasa complains that the millions of dead had it coming for being blatantly Jewish and responsible for psychotherapy, bagels and most of the best American comedy and literature. "Could they not see the effect their smartness had on eejits like myself?" he asks.

MAY

Bertie Ahern is back in the headlines again as it's revealed just why every single cent of the money he scabbed from the businessmen of the country is ultimately connected to the breakdown of his marriage. The Taoiseach comes clean and reveals that he had 17 wives.

"I shouldn't have been forced into doing this," he says, before weeping into Brian Dobson's lap on the news, "but I've been made bring my family into it."

Dobson gives him a sweet, bounces him on his lap and restores the Taoiseach to good humour by throwing shadows on the wall with his fingers. Bertie's allies say this should spell an end to the matter. "His only crime was love. How many of his critics could have satisfied 17 wives?" writes one of them. "Give him the Nobel Prize."

The Government announces plans to build a 743-house development, a motorway and a casino on the site of Newgrange. The creation of Tunnel Villas will take three minutes and 41 seconds off the average journey time between somewhere and somewhere else, announces an excited Noel Dempsey. The Green Party says there's no point in overreacting to events as the stability of the Government is the important thing -- and doesn't John Gormley look nice in his new office?

JUNE

The Cork hurlers and Gaelic footballers embark on their seventh strike of the year.

"We're fed up being called Cork," reveals hurling spokesman, Patrick Fitzgerald. "That name doesn't give anyone an idea of how fantastic we are."

Football spokesman Gerald Fitzpatrick announces his backing for Fitzgerald: "We'd like to be called 'The Amazing Colossal Men' or 'Brilliantland' or something like that. It's the least we deserve."

The panel announces plans to suicide- bomb Pairc Ui Chaoimh if its demands aren't met. "I don't think we're being unreasonable here," the statement concludes.

Bertie Ahern is captured on security camera emerging from Green Party headquarters dressed in a stripey jumper, a black mask with holes cut out for the eyes and a bag with "swag" written on it over his shoulder. Coincidentally, the Green Party national collection appears to have gone missing, though there are reports that it could have fallen down behind the settee or gone through a crack in the floor. The Green Party says there's no point in overreacting to events as the stability of the Government is the important thing -- and doesn't John Gormley look nice in his new office?

JULY

Village magazine launches a new strategy to get itself out of debt. The price of an issue is

SEPTEMBER

In a compromise over gay marriage, Brian Lenihan announces that marriage will be allowed between gay men and the kind of sad single middle-aged women who like going on about their "gay best friend" at dinner parties. The ceremony will consist of an announcement by the woman that there's nothing she likes better than watching gay bingo in the George and one by the man that being gay has nothing to do with man-on- man sex but is, in fact, all about going: "Oh men, who needs them, girl?" as the single woman complains about her personal life over a bottle of white wine.

RTE's documentary-schedule reveals some groundbreaking films about Ireland's various drug problems. Justine Delaney-Wilson's series, I Mean Like Absolutely Y'know Everyone is on Drugs, will feature the heroin crisis in the country's old-people's homes, the huge LSD problem of the country's sheep farmers and the epidemic of crack smoking in rural creches. "It's amazing," says the filmmaker. "Wait till you hear this tape. Oh no, Fido, you've done it again. What a hungry dog you are."

During a visit to the Vatican, Mary McAleese ascends into heaven. "I wasn't really paying attention," says Pope Benedict. "To be honest, she had the shite bored out of me. Nothing but religion, religion, religion. You want a break sometimes, you know. Anyways, didn't I look up and there she was, gone through the fuckin' roof. Pure mental it was." There are reports that the President is seeking to return from heaven on the grounds that God simply isn't holy enough for her. "She cracks me up," comments Cardinal Sean Brady.

OCTOBER

The Irish negative-equity crisis is solved when a group of builders and auctioneers hires an army of mercenaries to carry out a coup in Bulgaria. The new regime immediately rebuilds the economy along Irish lines. It's a bit of a bummer for the Bulgarian poor, but house prices rise and special legislation means that they rise by even more if owned by foreign investors. The Bulgarian rise cancels out the Irish fall and we're all saved and live happily ever after. Hurray!

The Government builds Ireland's first nuclear power station, importing foreign experts from Chernobyl, Sellafield and Three Mile Island and contracting the job out to Osama Bin Laden's construction company. The site for the station is John Gormley's house. The Green Party says there's no point in overreacting to events as the stability of the Government is the important thing -- and doesn't John Gormley look well in his new office? "You could even say he glows," adds Eamonn Ryan.

NOVEMBER

Following the Labour Party's decision to restore, We'll Keep the Red Flag Flying Here, as its party anthem, Enda Kenny decides to rebrand Fine Gael by returning to the initial Blueshirt image. As part of this new strategy, party members are enjoined to give Enda a Hitler salute and the party holds several large-scale military parades slightly spoiled by inexpert goosestepping. Twink appears at the Ard Fheis in Nuremburg to sing the party song, Blueshirt Moon, You Saw Me Standing Alone Without a Vote of My Own.

Nobody passes a blind bit of heed. Polls reveal that the majority of the electorate thinks Enda Kenny is a town in Donegal and Richard Bruton is a kind of aftershave for the genital area.

Muslims riot in Dublin after the Sports Council suggests naming a lane off the National Stadium "Muhammad Alley", in honour of the boxer. "We are fed up with this portrayal of Islam as a backward and violent religion," one rioter tells RTE as he helps burn the stadium to the ground. In a further development, a fatwa is issued against the production team of that RTE food show where a famous person cooks dinner after a customer is heard asking, "Is lamb on the menu?" Lamb is subsequently withdrawn from all restaurants in order to avoid giving offence. Meccano is banned because of the obvious reference to Mecca as are teatowels, in case any young lad puts one over his head and shouts, "Aieeee, I am going to kill you, infidel dogs."

DECEMBER

David McWilliams's new book, I'm Good- looking and You're All Doomed, predicts that the Irish economy will shortly return to its 1847 state. "It'll be a panini famine rather than a potato famine but we'll still all starve to death," he quips cheerfully. New McWilliams characters include Coffin Ship Katie, Potato Blight Paul and Ciara The Cannibal.

Meanwhile, Eddie Hobbs of Kabul Property Investments brings out a new book, I'm a Smart Cork Cunt Who's Getting Progressively More Annoying, but nobody reads it, so we'll never know what's in it.

It emerges that the earth will go into climatic meltdown next year because of an enormous surge of hot air issuing from the Dublin area. When it emerges that this is coming from the Green Party, Fianna Fail immediately dismisses the coalition partners.

"I don't care about the stability of the Government or how nice I look on the Government benches," says An Taoiseach, "sometimes you've just got to stand by your principles."

- Eamonn Sweeney