All the newspapers are full of ‘review of 2013’ stories. I don’t need them. I was there all through it and I can remember bits of it too. Never the good bits, unfortunately.
This tedious ritual comes up between Christmas and New Year every damn year. Nothing is going to change. Nothing ever does.
I am in ‘Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells’ mood because I’ve just done the two-day big-shift part of the job, looking forward to the rest of the short-shift week, and have learned that I start at 8 am on New Year’s Eve. Local shop is closed on New Year’s Day but unless I can get to sleep in the afternoon, I’m not going to make it to midnight. Bah. I’ll get a load of caffeine in me and become one of those wide-eyed gibbering drunks for the evening.
If you’re going to look back, find something interesting. The origin of ‘Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells’ is interesting, as are the real comments sent by the various Disgusteds.
The only thing that’s really changed is that the spoutings of the self-important grumps are no longer amusing. Now they. become law.