2 January 2011

This was the year that was

I was planning on handing out some awards to see 2010 off in style, but it was such a shit year I don't think it deserves any. Instead I'm just going to list some of the various occurrences that occurred that came together to form a furious raging perfect shit storm that left the entire globe caked in poo.

The year began if you recall, much the same as it ended. The snow had brought the country to a standstill. This was apparently because it was unprecedented for snow to fall in January, at least in such volumes. The Government vowed to learn their lessons from the experience however and assured us next time we would be far better prepared. Phew!

Town councilors up and down the country feeling the wrath of frustrated commuters were to breath a sigh of relief however on January 12th as the media's attention was taken away from the two hours it was taking to travel four yards, as a massive earthquake destroyed Haiti killing pretty much everyone. Phew!

The whole world came together to heave devastated Haiti back onto it's feet. The UK's effort began to wane (no pun intended) however as revelations began to emerge that John Terry had fucked someone Wayne Bridge used to know. A state of emergency was announced as confusion mounted as to whether this would interfere with the national team's World Cup preparations. They didn't. Phew!

Another earthquake hits, this time in Chile. Much to the chagrin of the BBC, who had spent millions on new death toll graphics following the Haitian tragedy which may have claimed 250,000 lives, the death toll was far smaller and they were unable to unveil their 3-D coffins graphics.

Once again however, a Chelsea player would steal the lime light away from an actual news story as Cheryl Cole finally accumulates enough wealth and fame to ditch Ashley Cole.

A slow news month. Not a single earthquake and not a single Chelsea player arrested for beating his wife, drink driving or fighting with tourists. Chancellor Alistair Darling (remember him?) who knew his career in politics was all but over delivered his budget to the House of Commons.

Knowing full well his party were in for an horrendous pummeling at the polling stations, it was the most ridiculous sugary pap since Ashley Cole sounded out his wedding vows.

Meanwhile the Daily Mail readership were incandescent with rage as Jon Venables was returned to prison for breaching his bail terms, and a gay guy from some DIY show or something on the BBC was found dead in his flat after a kinky sex game went a bit awry - or according to plan - you never know what that lot are trying to achieve with all that equipment do you?

One of the most bullshit months of the year. I wondered in fact whether I'd not received a memo informing us that April Fools Day was to be extended to cover the whole month.

A volcano erupting in Iceland was to prevent all of western Europe from flying anywhere and anyone in the western hemisphere from flying to western Europe.

Eventually it was established the path of the "dust cloud" which was supposedly capable of bringing down passenger airliners in their hundreds was predicted by the same computer models that predicted global warming would see temperatures of 80 degrees on Christmas day from now on. Twats.

Gordon Brown however in possibly the only real instance of true leadership during his tenure as Prime Minister would sooth the nation's anger with one of the most hilarious gaffes by a politician in modern times as he accused a pensioner, life long Labour supporter and carer of disabled children of being a bigot with a BBC microphone sellotaped to his lapel.

The country was in shit state, we couldn't get away from it because the airports were all closed and even if they weren't the rest of the world was just as shit anyway. They were still hauling corpses out of the rubble in Haiti, the Gulf of Mexico was polluted with oil, the Taliban were in the ascendancy in Afghanistan and the Chinese were taking over the world, but for that one afternoon, we didn't care. Everyone felt shit, but at least we weren't Gordon Brown.

Having concluded an incredible destruction of England, something no Scottish leader had ever achieved over centuries of war, Gordon Brown was finally drummed out of Downing Street. He left with a skip and jump with his family in tow, satisfied beyond all his wildest dreams by a job well done. The most archetypal Jock had fucked England royally for ever and now he could rest. He who laughs last...

A nutter drove around the north-west gunning people down and England exceeded even my expectations of failure managing to not even make the quarter-finals and only just eeking out of the group stages having battled with the might of America, Slovenia and the Marshall Islands

Another shooting as Mr Raul Moat got the wrong end of the stick and decided to shoot as many policemen as possible as he thought his girlfriend had had an affair with one. She hadn't.

After a siege lasting many hours, this sorry episode in modern day liberal sandal wearing policing was brought to a bloody conclusion when Gazza, who had brought his friend Moaty some crisps, stumbled into the firing line and was killed instantly.

Mr Moat, devastated at killing his idol, then turned his gun on himself, missed, shot a woman who was playing Scrabble in her living room some fifty yards away, tried again and this time was able to blow most of arse away spilling his brains into the ditch he'd been hiding in for the past three days.

It might not have happened exactly like this, but it's how I prefer to remember it as the truth is just too depressing. The conclusion of this siege marked the death of British Policing as we knew it. From August, if you didn't know it already, it was every man for himself.

In Chile 33 miners were trapped about a mile underground with very little chance of rescue any time soon. And another one of those kinky deaths occurred as an MI6 worker and known tranny/gayer/cyclist, was found dead in a bag in his bath!!

What the fuck? A bag? A fucking bag!!? Someone tell me please how that's a turn on? When did just getting a nice healthy blow job stop being arousing? When did having a nice bit of sex in the missionary position in a bed stop being enough to bring about a satisfying climax?

Have people really exhausted all alternative positions that can be enjoyed in a nice warm soft bed, that being squeezed into an airtight rubber bag with a badger is the only effective means for gaining any degree of sexual gratification?

This is why whoopsies shouldn't be permitted to adopt children. How old will little Zachary be before Elton buys him his first vac-bag?

In September the Pope came to town and told us to stop being so hysterically prudish about Paedophilia. Just grow up he told us...without a hint of irony.

Ed Miliband was provided with the Labour leadership by the Unions thus rendering the Labour Party redundant.

And the Thomas Midgley award for tragic yet ironic and I'm afraid slightly amusing accidents, was won by Segway inventor Jimi Heselden won died after launching himself off a cliff on one of his contraptions.

The 33 Chilean miners are rescued successfully in one of the most compelling and inspirational live TV moments of all time.

The world's media had placed the lives of the 33 miners under the microscope and every aspect of their lives scrutinised. Consequently some of the miners' infidelties came to light (as it were) and at least seven of the miners considered remaining in the mine rather than face the wrath of their shovel wielding wives and mistresses.

The snow brings the country to a standstill. This was apparently because it was unprecedented for snow to fall in January or November, at least in such volumes. The Government prayed for another earthquake somewhere and vowed to learn their lessons from the experience and assured us the next time we would be far better prepared. Phew!

Over-privileged students decide to bust up London after Government proposals to actually get them to pay for their own educations. With the final instance of jaw dropping hypocrisy completely devoid of irony in 2010 a posh little package sporting a red Prada coat and diamond ear-rings squeaked, "Why should Daddy have to pay, we've got four ponies at home, they don't pay themselves you know."

Rah-rah-rah we're going to smash the oinks

No comments: