2010.

Well, what an eventful year was 2010.

January. It was a whirlwid of cheap whores and cheaper gin.

I spent most of February hanging upside down singing nursery rhymes.

March was the month of experimental freeform jazz/black metal fusion. I call this my "green period".

April was my birthday month, so I went to Tesco in Hayes and had sex with all the fresh produce.

May came and went too soon.

June's activities resulted in three deaths, a sprained wrist and a restraining order.

I don't talk about July without my lawyer present.

In August I took my summer holiday. A fortnight in 1952. The Grandfather Paradox is bollocks, apparently.

I spent most of September watching terrible middle-eastern pornography whilst totally off my tits on industrial grade acid.

October had Night Of The Sparrows. I still keep finding feathers in the most unlikely of places.

In November I invented a teleporter. Something went wrong and it bent Timespace the wrong way. Hence October lasted the equivalent to 38 years.

December is still happening. So far my efforts to invade Greenland have proved unsuccessful.