The Happiest New Year.

As 2012 draws to a close I am absolutely off my tits on love. I’m smacked out. I’m on fire and probably look a bit scary.

It’s a major surprise for me. I’ve been in love for years as it happens….with myself. I can’t pass a reflective surface without having an ogle. This is something better, I’m admiring someone else.

Tonight we’re going to see in the New Year together on the South Bank. It’s so much nicer than the West Bank don’t you think?

2012 has also brought its fair share of disappointments. Bad Boss on BBC3, Alanis Morisette’s 14 track turd and a grey eye brow.  The biggest disappointment has to be this.


We love Malibu in this flat, neat, in cocktails, on honey nut cornflakes. We fucking love it.

When my flatmate and I saw this in Tesco we were so excited. What better than a festive version of our favourite drink.

The excitement didn’t last for long. It’s like a watery unset coconut jelly. It’s still in the fridge, wobbling at me every time I open the door. Normally we polish off a bottle in one night.

So….just hours left of the year. I had better make myself look handsome and squeeze into those new jeans.

Happy New Year everyone.