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Talking of death, a reminder to all celebrities to not die on these last two or three days of the year or you'll miss the end of year round up of those we lost in the last 12 months. John Pilger and Tom Wilkinson did it this year and l
ook at these other chumps who couldn't just hold on a few more hours to make the 2024 round up, so they instead get included in mine. Only I care about notable people who died between 29th and 31st December. Loads must go every year, the mixture of cold weather, over consumption and proximity to inlaws must take out millions. Why not wait until 1st January to do your ghoulish death listes, journalists? Enjoy your Christmas holidays. They might be your last.
I know I am destined to die in the taint. Which is quite a superpower to have as it means I can take crazy risks for the rest of the year (though be careful- the taint gods are very capable of putting you in a coma on the 2nd of January and leave you stewing until the last seconds of 31/12.
Anyway I survived to the end of 2023 (and I no longer take that for granted with any new year) and it was a fairly forgettable and non-noteworthy collection of seconds. Something good or bad must have happened, but I can't think what it is. I
t was the quietest year for work for a good long while - mainly due to me refusing to write anything, but also hardly anyone asked me to do anything and I just got on with enjoying being a dad, but that's just what I've got to do. What do I want? A medal? It'd be nice, but Liz Truss came up with nothing, after all I did for her.
No highlights or lowlights springing to mind. But that might well be just my increasingly poor memory. Something must have happened. Maybe I can just keep my head down until I die on 30th December 20something.
Don't get me wrong, it might well be my happiest year ever. At least most content year ever. But I'd be happy if someone paid me to do jigsaws and play UNO for eight hours a day and I could play with my kids for the rest of it. Which is more or less what happened in 2023.
We had a fun New Year's Eve, like last year, a small group of parents taking the kids to one of the couple's house and having food and drink. The kids were pretty feral but everyone let them be and then all the adults (except me) got drunk. Last year we'd been amazed that the kids stayed up til midnight, but this year Phoebe started flaking out just before 11 and so did I. So we went home a bit early. Phoebe wanted to be the first person to say poo in the UK in 2024, but I think she was asleep at the crucial second and if you don't get that in on the stroke of midnight someone will be ready to jump in and claim the honours. I couldn't be prouder that that was her new year ambition though. So 2024 has already had its highlight.
