Let’s face it, 2016 has been a tit of a year:
- The elected Leader of the Free World has a name that translates as a ‘blow off’
- We Brexited
- We had to use the word Brexit
- my local Sainsbury’s discontinued Twiglets
What is the world coming to?
But alongside the Pound's all time low and the price increase to Marmite, some INCREDIBLE things have happened.
Whether it's the quiver in David Cameron’s voice as he relayed his love for a country that he’d just Golden Showered on or my fumble with a renegade who left his shoe in my bedroom like a battle scar, this is a blog about the GREAT news events of 2016.
Two words: Danny Dyer. If you haven’t watched his episode of Who Do You Think You Are? you must do so immediately. He only went and took the ‘Pearly’ out of ‘Pearly King’. Oh great Plantagenet Danny who now wants to “buy a ruff” and “bowl about in it”. Our master.
Ed Balls. Gangnum Style.
My mum only mentioned that I would look better as a brunette ONCE! Only once people! OK, the year is not yet over but breakthrough!!
Tim Peake; the most excited man ever got to climb inside of a rocket and speed his punk ass into space.
(After eating something that grows in a forest, I too travelled into space. I was also quite excited although I cannot confirm or deny if I shat inside of my spacesuit).
Congratulations to my fellow Hunted fugitives Nick and Ayo for outsmarting 'the man'. Here I am NOT outsmarting 'the man' in some undergrowth in Essex.
Dig out your black ties ‘cause I discovered a Mcdonald’s that does table service. (Kilburn High Road if anyone’s feeling flush).
Gary Lineker for speaking out on the refugee crisis and encouraging Walkers not to advertise in hate fuelled media…oh, and for presenting Match of the Day in his pants obviously.
Ashes to Ashes…some VILLAINS prevailed as others diminished:
MPs voted to strip morally repugnant Phillip Green of his Knighthood for making BHS pensioners pay for his big boat.
I have now made peace with wearing only pre-owned Topshop (although nothing in there fits me anyway). I once bought a palm-tree encrusted leotard that when upon my bosom, stretched the shafts into hammy old, fir cones. Yolo.
London elected a Labour mayor! Sadiq triumphing over chiselled demagogue Goldsmith was a rare example of when a racist campaign was not tolerated and was quashed like a bastard.
David Cameron resigned. Granted it wasn’t because he inherited offshore money or for casual bestiality, it was for just being a bit crap. But yey!
The wasps on Planet Earth 2 were outdone by the unborn! Ninja glass tadpoles eluded their predators in this incredible clip:
Goldsmith failed to get re-elected as an MP. Awks.
Caring about global warming and opposing Heathrow expansion; great. Denigrating your mayoral opponent with racial slurs and clichés, refusing to shake his hand when he defeats you and for generally being a first class Bell; not so great.
The ill-fated Labour coup! Watching people eat their words is always pleasurable, especially when those words are “what’s so wrong with Tony Blair anyway”.
Being the year of the Underdog wasn’t solely great for American right wingers. The prize was anyone’s and up for the taking.
Jeremy Corbyn stormed to a second victory! This spurred a load of new Party sign ups proving that corduroy and falafel clogged beards are the new black.
Sadiq Khan schlepped his Banana Republic blazers around City Hall like a PRO and froze TFL fares for the next four years. What? A Politician has done something for the good of the people? Odd. (Let’s glaze over his anti-Corbyn comments for a second).
Leicester won the bloody Premier League! (And consequently, Lineker presenting in his kegs)!
Me - I finally used the 'I Love London' condom that I've been carrying around for three years. Turns out, I didn't love London as much I expected to.
2016 was the glitch in the Matrix. The year of the outsiders where both Goodies and Baddies succeeded. Who knows what next year holds…
- A wall between America and Mexico?
- Brussels refusing us access to the single market? CHEERS BORIS!
- My mum embracing the bleached-blonde locks that I’ve had for 20 years?
Perhaps there will be a place for Zac Goldsmith on Strictly…perhaps if I lend my heart out like a library book, it might even be returned pristine or stamped out indefinitely. Maybe I will start talking in 21st Century metaphors. Who knows?
We have learned that all bets are off and that David Bowie was in fact the glue sticking the Universe together.
Pick up your glow sticks bitches, Let’s Dance!