Cheers 2016, you’ve been great.
Remember how everyone was worried the world was going to end in 2012? Well even if the Mayans were right and it had all been curtains for planet Earth, rest assured it would have only been the second-worst year on record. 2016, you really have been awful. We usually begin a New Year thinking it’s our chance for a fresh start. Perhaps time to renew the gym membership we never used, and stop eating all the pizza. After all, the UN declared 2016 the International Year of Pulses. Seriously. But just as we were looking forward to 12 months of celebrating lentils, you ruined the party. First, you took David Bowie. Then Alan Rickman. And before January was even finished, you handed us a full-blown Zika virus outbreak. Next came earthquakes, floods, and endless TV specials about Jonbenét Ramsey. We had Brexit, the blandest Australian election on record and then the fucking census. There were bombings in Brussels, killings in Nice, and everything else in Syria. Police shootings, Orlando shootings, gorilla shootings. We lost Muhammad Ali and Harper Lee and Prince and Gene Wilder. Not even Willy Wonka was safe from the carnage. You complete bastard. But like being stuck on a train with a raving drunk, there was nowhere to hide, as we witnessed one sad indignity after another. Which brings us to Donald Trump. With his silly little hands, straw hair and face tandooried to a weird shade of orange, he set out to prove he was the personification of 2016, by being easily the worst person on the planet. Still, nice try, Pauline Hanson. Anyway, now it’s time to look on the bright side. The countdown is on to when we’ll be cracking open the champers and lighting the sparklers to ring in a brand new year. Who’s to say what lies ahead – but at least we’ll sleep easy on December 31, knowing it can’t get any worse than this. Thanks for nothing.