Happy Blogmany

Ah, New Year's Eve. I was at Leeds railway station this evening and honestly, the short skirts, the stiletto heels, the bosoms on show - I really shouldn't have worn those clothes, not with my figure.

I'm joking, of course, although I have worn some bizarre things on New Year's Eve in the past. When I was 16 I remember failing to get into Torquay's Piazza pub wearing a black and white checked shirt with a bow tie. Quite why I thought the 'harlequin waiter' look was going to help me appear over 18, I don't know. I was also brandishing very badly faked ID, so much so I might as well just handed over a piece of paper with 'I be 18' written on it in crayon, and it would have been more convincing. In the end myself and my chum Dave Baker went to KFC and ended up back at my house drinking the contents of my mum's sideboard. Happy New Year Mr Baker, I trust you will end up doing something just as exciting tonight.

The year after KFC-night, my girlfriend of the time told me she wanted an 'open relationship' so she could snog other blokes in front of me all night. Amusingly, she was diagnosed with glandular fever a few days later and I was the only one who hadn't caught it. Strange girl she was, I was told a few years ago that she is now a 'lesbian bookshop'. Not an owner of a bookshop, the actual bookshop itself.

Subsequent New Year's Evenings have always been a bit, well, different. 1997/98 I slept through, after having been so utterly bored of Torquay's 'Crazy Horse Saloon' (it was neither crazy, nor equine based)that I just went home at 9pm.

For the Millenium I ended up in a warehouse in Liverpool with various chums watching The Lightning Seeds, Stereophonics, Orbital and Pete Tong. But my abiding memory was attempting to sleep in a friend's car in the car park, having thought I could do without a sleeping bag and just put a coat over myself. It was -2C outside and I spent most of the night begging my friend to 'make the car hot'. I believe I actually passed out from the cold rather than fell asleep that night.

Then there was an evening of indie-rock in Wolverhampton which involved so much headbanding that me and chum Rusty ended up with whiplash for a week.

One lovely night saw my mum produce copious amounts of food from nowhere, and I shall always cherish the look of delight on my wife's face as mum pulled a massive trifle out of the fridge at 1am.

Ultimately, as time has gone by, I've wanted less noise, insane drinking and dancing like I've got rickets. Instead, it's just nice to spend time with the people you care about.

Anyway, whatever you end up doing tonight, be safe and enjoy yourself. And if you're planning on sleeping in a car, bring a duvet.

Thanks for reading my 2011 nonsense, I'll try harder next year.