The forging of the green

Gail Folliard, Evan Dennings and Kevin Davoren – three Irish names on what turn out to be fake passports used by 11 possible Mossad agents wanted by Dubai authorities for questioning in connection with the murder in a five-star hotel of senior Hamas commander Mahmoud Al Mabhouh. How did they create what later emerges as five fake Irish identities using real passport numbers? Are our passports that easy to forge?

Bless us and save us

Everyone loves to dress up, some pomp even, to show the world that the weight of tradition is an important element in their beliefs. But are these guys having a laugh? Twenty-four men in long robes, gold jewellery and neat little hats meet a silver-haired man in long creamy robes and a creamy hat in the most sumptuous surroundings you could imagine. The Irish Catholic hierarchy meets the pope and makes a mess, yet again, of connecting with its flock. And it wonders why.

Quids in, sarnies in

The first thing Nigel Page (maintenance worker) and his partner Justine Laycock (estate agent) do is quit their jobs, the second is to forget to wish each other happy Valentine's Day. Then they go down to the local supermarket in Gloucester, England, with their three children and celebrate with bacon rolls all round. Sometimes, when you win €70m in the EuroMillions, you can be a bit stuck for celebratory ideas.

Culinary catastrophe

"Soak it in spring water for three days before cooking," advises top Italian tv chef Beppe Bigazze, before telling viewers, live on the RAI channel, how to casserole a cat. His co presenter Elisa Isoardi is not amused. She has a pet cat called Othello.

Cole scuttled

Who'd be a wag? Cheryl Cole takes off her wedding ring and puts on the dark glasses and a brave face for her Brit Award performance amid a fresh swirl of reports about husband Ashley's infidelity. The next day, still ringless, and wearing a t-shirt depicting a tearful female face, Cheryl Tweedy flies to LA. Her use of her maiden name is taken as a big hint and "friends" confirm divorce proceedings are imminent.

Ashen faced

Cementing her reputation as the Alannah Partridge of the global media, Sky News presenter Kay Burley asks the broadcaster's US correspondent Greg Milan how the vice president Joe Biden got that "nasty" bruise on his forehead. She even suggests on air it might have happened as a result of a fall at the Winter Olympics, only to be told that Biden is a Catholic and it's Lenten ash. "I know, I'm a very bad Catholic," Burley witters. "I've said three Hail Marys, everything is going to be fine."

A victim's lament

Having secured that crucial vote of confidence in the Dáil to howls of disdain from Fine Gael and Labour and tweets of insubordination from Green Party chairman Dan Boyle, Willie "I'm a victim too" O'Dea resigns, not because he lied on oath in a sworn affidavit denying he smeared a political opponent, but because staying in office will "only serve to distract" from the government's "important" work.

Mystery mercy killing

"I killed someone once." The admission by the BBC radio and tv documentary maker Ray Gosling causes alarm because of the off-the cuff way he introduces his own act of euthanasia. The 70-year-old gay campaigner says he smothered a young lover who, many years ago, was dying of Aids and was in acute pain. "I said to the doctor, 'Leave me just for a bit', and he went away," Gosling says on the BBC programme Inside Out. "I picked up the pillow and smothered [my lover] until he was dead." Police arrest him on suspicion of murder, but Gosling won't say who he smothered, or where, or when.

Find our girl

Kate and Gerry McCann beg Portuguese police to investigate new leads in the search for their missing daughter Madeleine. They have just won their fight to have a ban upheld on a book by the police officer in charge of the original investigation which claims Madeleine is dead. But despite massive global sympathy, police in Portugal and in Britain remain reluctant to follow new leads.

A sorry display

The therapy programme at a Mississippi sex addiction clinic enters its penitence phase as Tiger Woods calls in three wire services and a couple of friendly golf writers to make his global apology – to his wife and family, to his fans and to his business colleagues. But is it as sincere as it seems? Timing, as Tiger knows, is everything in golf. Is this really just a chance to upstage rivals on the first big golf tournament of the year, Arizona's World Match Play Championship – and is it a chance to hit tournament sponsor Accenture into the rough for being so quick to drop him when his string of sexual indiscretions were first exposed?