If you haven’t read the article yet, I suggest you do. But enough of this, I wanted to say something else and which Raphael reminded me of. It’s about these goddamn senior civil servants who head these departments and agencies. A lot of stuff has been said about them, ranging from your typical blue eyed boy accusation to the more serious allegations that the alleged nepotism in place locally has placed people who know a big fat fuck all in positions of extreme power. I’m not going down that road, I’m just going to say what I expect from these people, be they whomever they may be.

When it comes to the people who head up large governmental agencies or important bodies in this country, I don’t actually give a shit if they’re colourful characters, prone to being verbose, arrogant and condescending and for having absolutely no public relations skills. Nor do I give a shit if they’re paid a bomb, and I know that some of them are, and one of them in particular compared his pay to a car in that if “you want to buy an expensive car you have to pay for it”.

And again, although I see the inherent problem within, I do not actually care if they have links to the political parties, the construction magnate, the medicines cartel and what have you, even though these links are not conducive to the most desirable of positions.

Uncharacteristically for me, I don’t even give a toss as to whether these good people are idiots, complete Neanderthals with a single digit IQ or inbred fucks with 11 toes and a sub standard chromosome count. No, even this doesn’t affect me.

No, you see, I wouldn’t actually care about any of the above, scandalous as that may seem to anyone who’s reading, as long as what they’re tasked to do is done. Period.

Is that so wrong? Maybe. Fact is this; the only thing I care about is that these highly paid, mandatorily respected individuals do their job, do it well and cease any talk of ‘European standards’, ‘state of the art‘, ‘avantgarde’, ‘forward looking’ and  until what they call their ‘remit’ works and works well. And by works well, I do mean works well, not ‘worked up to a second stage of testing where it broke, but we wrote the User Guide and Press Release anyway.‘ You know who you are.

The Times reports that “Malta lunched safe in the knowledge that it could now count a Prince of the Catholic Church among its citizens.” Indeed, I dined on an exquisite dish of Not Actually Giving a Shit.

1: I don’t care

Why exactly should I care that Malta has a cardinal, like this is some sort of achievement for the nation? Don’t get me wrong, congrats to the old geezer and what not, but basically instructing me that this is an important and momentous day for the nation is a sort of thinking I don’t ascribe to and frankly, is just fucking pathetic.

And it’s not just that I’m anti-clerical and a darned atheist either, it goes beyond just that. To me, this sort of bullshit is just like the reportage given to tenor Joseph Calleja who said that he would one day bring a Grammy home to Malta. Sweet thoughts and all Joseph boy, but like I said on Facebook, you should win that shit for your own credit and because of your own good and hard work, not for anyone else’s majoram gloriam.

2: Oh yes, we’re delighted!

Oh, and get a load of this. Apparently, or should I say, ‘according to ToM‘, “Cardinal Prospero did his utmost to downplay the occasion, saying that it was likely that the Maltese people were more delighted than he was at his appointment.”

Oh you don’t say? Yes, the Maltese are really delighted at your appointment Your Holiness (is that the correct term used to address a Cardinal?). So delighted were they, I couldn’t get out of the house today because of all the damn carcades, all these cars and imitation Popemobiles out honking their horns and waving the Papal flag. Oh get out would you?

3: Honour say what?

So, “the President of Malta, George Abela, as well as Deputy Prime Minister Tonio Borg said that the event honoured both Cardinal Prospero personally, as well as the Maltese people and their faith.” Honour what sorry? I’m sorry I didn’t catch that in time, I had satanic death metal blasting into my earphones. Honour my faith? I don’t think that I’ve actually given any one of you my blessing to be talking about my faith, or anyone else’s apart from your own. I didn’t actually know that ‘Defender of the Faith’ was in your job description. kthanksbye.

4: You are so beautiful, to me

However, the true clincher is this, and I’m not even counting all this hype for a Cardinal that is too old to ever vote for a Pope because I don’t actually give a toss who votes for other people’s spiritual leader. No, this is the true clincher, what the new Cardinal said – “The most beautiful thing we have in Malta is the faith given to us by St Paul. Keep hold of that, Cardinal or no Cardinal,” Ha, ha, muthafucking ha. No mate, that is, quite plainly, untrue. Everyone knows that the most beautiful thing we have in Malta is our love of migrants, our complete lack of misogyny, our non-existent homophobia and of course, our sense of universal justice. Oh, and since we’re on to fairy tales now, the fact that St Paul took the venom from our snakes and cast it into the the tongues of, oh, never mind.

Thing is, Carnival ain’t never bothered me at all, you have. In fact, here are 5 Things I Hate about Carnival, or five things I hate about you which you do at Carnival. Take your fuckin’ pick.

1: Automatic fun

So let me get this straight, the aim of Carnival is to dress up as something ridiculous, drink copious amounts of booze, listen to loud music and automagically, fun will happen. Now, I’m not really sure what you’re into drinking normally, but anytime there’s loud music and booze involved, I’m already having fun, so really, I don’t actually need to be wearing a hook for a hand and tights to somehow magically expand the level of fun this miserable tosser is having.

2: Pirates

I understand that Johnny Depp and his Pirates franchise (how many films are there now, 15?) have made pirates as popular as vampires and certain black soul singers. I get that, I truly do. Still, it’s a bit old now isn’t it. I mean, for the ones of us who live on the internet, pirates are actually older than Stonehenge, and destined to get more of a condescending smile rather than a guffaw. That’s it, I’m sick and fucking tired of seeing people dress up in the same goddamn ridiculous pirate costume. Next one I catch is getting that hook of his rammed up his arse and twisted.

3: Noise

Now you might not get this about me, me being Maltese and all, but I hate noise, I truly do. I especially hate loud noises for which there is absolutely no justifiable goddamn reason, and among which I can list church bells (because there’s no god), fireworks (because dead people give less than a shit about the noise you’re making to honour them), mass meetings (because politicians are evil, corrupt idiots and you’re the morons who voted them in), carcades (because your team doesn’t actually give a solitary shit that you’re out there supporting them), buscades (because the whole world couldn’t give a fuck that we have yet another halfwit graduate to celebrate) and Carnival. To be honest, in the great scheme of things, Carnival is among the less noisy and least annoying, but can you blame for hating it? Remember I grew up to the sound of Eileen Montesin presenting that sham of a carnival in Valletta, her voice like a garden rake being plunged into a puppy, for hours on end. No wonder I’m still traumatised.

4: Valletta

Remind me, why oh why can’t I go into Valletta on the weekend when 1/3 of the population fucks off to Gozo to become someone else’s problem and not mine? Oh right, of course, I can’t because another third of the population heads down to Valletta with their obese families and yelling, screaming, crying kids in tow, and try to enjoy the piece of shit show of blue hues and pastel pinks, accompanied by that most mindless of music; cheesy 80s and 90s songs rearranged to be more ‘dance’. I could think of worse things to happen to me than be stuck in Valletta this weekend, but then again, I don’t think I’d mind waterboarding so much.

5: Kids

It’s not that I hate kids. I don’t, I really don’t and apparently, I’m really quite good with them, probably because as a man, I’m first and foremost an overgrown child. No, it’s this ridiculous, sanitised, fucking family friendly bullshit I can’t take. Do you think that when the Knights celebrated Carnival there were kids running round in Droopy costumes or cowboy getups or whatever the hell it is parents make their kids wear these days? Fuck no man, those parties would have been legendary, and epically NSFW. Grotesque, sick, exaggerated, vile, you pick your adjective dude, I’m sticking with awesome. Those must have been some parties man! You could have scraped the debauchery off your dancing shoes when you were done. That’s the way Carnival ought to be done, fuck these stupid kid friendly floats and marches with the little princess queen at the front waving her little plastic China made ‘magic’ wand. Kids can wear whatever they damn well please all year round, leave Carnival to us grown ups, and let it be sick and fucking twisted.

Now, where’s my Zombie Obama costume?

I wasn't kidding, the Zombie Obama costume does exist! http://bit.ly/Add2g7

This year, I once again let my imagination run wild with what the songs were actually about, and since I watched the videos in mute, the subject of said songs could once again be anything I liked it to be. These were the worst moments of some of the Maltese finalists, and I say some because I couldn’t be arsed to force myself to watch more of this crap, even on mute.

Oh, and if you’re offended because you were expected a well thought out, well structured and well written piece about the musical connotations and what have you of the Eurovision, sorry, you’re wrong. It’s the Eurovision you dumbfucks, if you take it seriously, it’s your own time you’re wasting.

Danica Muscat

"I'm not supposed to be holding a drinks tray, am I?"

JAnvil

"Stop the wanker behind me from waving his sticks!"

Isabelle

"How could you misspell 'water'?"

Francesca Borg

"A serenade about self breast examination."

Klinsmann

"Yes you guess right, I'm a wanker!"

Richard Edwards

"You guessed right again, I'm a wanker too!"

Annalise Ellul

"Slipped on a banana"

"Monkeys love banana!"

Kurt Calleja

"I'm grabbing an invisible boobie! Yay me!"

"I didn't take a happy pill, no man, I just grabbed a boobie!"

"And now I just shat my pants.."

Romina Mamo

"Uh oh, don't you dare grab my ass!"

"And don't you dare grab my vag!"

"Why you waving to the back, uh oh Mister?"

Deborah C

"Look, I haz jumping monkey!"

"And my monkeys go Sieg Heil, Sieg Heil!"

Dorothy Bezzina

"He wasn't a big man at all, maybe only about this big!"

"I was like 'LOL, this big?'"

"Liar said it was this big, so I walked off in a huff.."

Fabrizio Faniello

"In my defence, I did tell her I was about this big.."

"But then again, I was this hard after all!"

"Ok fine, maybe I lied, maybe I stretched it by this much..."

Claudia Faniello

"My brother ran to me because some bitch told him he was tiny.."

"But to be fair, he really is this big."

Gianni

"Hey dirty girl, you wanna see my guitar?"

"Hey you guys watch out, this will be a smelly one!"

"Seriously you guys, that stank, but I gotta come up for air now!"

Yeah yeah, I know I left a bunch of singers out, but like I said, I couldn’t be arsed to see all of the lame, pathetic, goddamn vomit inducing videos. Do it yourself and link back in the comments, the world will love you for it.

Oh, and before you start to bitch that I’ve hammered the singers before they had a chance to prove themselves and yadda, yadda, yadda, just remember some of the ridiculous things you said last year, also about the Eurovision. Commit them to memory. You will need them soon.

Now they tell me that Drive is what you call a B-Movie, so if you agree with that assessment and feel that B-Movies are allowed to be shite, I suggest you stop reading here. If you’re curious, let me tell you that the B stands for Bollocks, and you’ll be saying that a lot while watching Drive, mostly out of sheer Boredom.

For a start, the film isn’t shot too badly, and the angles, slow captures, colour choices and constant slow motion scenes will not annoy you for the first 20 minutes. After that, it all gets a bit old, especially when you realise the story is poorer than a beggar in Calcutta.

I’ve never liked main actor Ryan Gosling at all, but some say he’s a great actor, so I put my feelings aside and watched. Now I hate that flat faced bastard more than ever. Not only can I still not understand why the hell anyone would consider Gosling to be attractive, with his highly compacted facial features and dumbstruck expression, now I hate him even worse for trying to act like some kind of Gary Oldman in Leon, and failing miserably. Get your hands out of your pocket you piece of shit, because you don’t look cool. And if your dialogue is mostly limited to short, curt answers which are supposed to max out our your coolness, I’m sorry, that’s not working with me, you just look like an unemphatic bastard with a slow reaction time. And fuck “Kim Jong Il looking at things”, the internet meme should be revised to “Ryan Gosling looking at pointless shit while chewing a toothpick and trying to be enigmatic, but being as flat as your failed attempt to make burger buns which ended up looking like pancakes“.

And who the hell casts Bryan Cranstone and Cristina Hendricks only to waste their talent completely? Hendricks is one of the sexiest, sweetest, most charming and most convincing actresses I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing on screen, but in this film, her lines are limited to one or two, and she exits too soon, without even having added any dimension to the film whatsoever. Cranstone is a cripple you want to kick where it hurts, because he’s a fake pastiche of a one dimensional character at best. I couldn’t believe this guy is the same one who played Walter White in Breaking Bad, the best TV drama ever since The Wire. Then there’s Carey Mulligan, who was amazing in ‘An Education’ but just looks, feels and acts brain dead in this brain dead film. I just found it incredible that you could take a cast of such fine actors and make them look like hapless hacks who couldn’t act for shit. Doing that takes talent.

And then there’s the pointless, completely gratuitous violence. It’s not that violence in films bugs me, in fact, I actually quite dig the gore, but there has to be a reason behind it, and if the reason is “shit, the story’s a bit flat, let’s add some blood”, well then, don’t expect me to like it. Think about is, and SPOILERS BE HERE, but this film actually wants you to believe that Ryan Gosling happens to be the driver for a holdup in which his neighbor is involved, in a heist that seems to have really been masterminded by the rich guy who’s financing his race car. And there’s a bit of blood every time someone loses his temper. Say whaaat?

So in essence what I’m saying is that Drive is a pointless, flat attempt at noire film making, so pointless you should never waste two hours of life to watch it, because believe me, when you’re done, you’ll want to turn back time and watch something at least half decent instead.

Enjoy.

Fotoshop by Adobé from Jesse Rosten on Vimeo.

This commercial isn’t real, neither are society’s standards of beauty.

Follow on twitter.com/JesseRosten

Now I’m no fan of conniving politicians, but I do think we should have an election in Malta, like, right now. In fact, these are 8 reasons why we should have an election.

1: Begging for votes

There is nothing I love more in this world, than a temporarily stunned and humbled politician trying to get their story straight, keeping a good smile up and getting you to vote for them. It truly is a sight to be witnessed. It’s as awesome as the look you get from the priest who comes to bless your house, when at the very last he expects that donation, which was the point of his visit anyway. It’s just like that, but in suits.

2: New definitions of democracy

Every election we get a new definition of democracy. All our politicians, some of which I daresay are half illiterate, feel the need to inform us that ‘this is what democracy means’, and ‘that is what democracy means’, and ‘this is why we live in a democracy’. To which I normally answer, “No, we live in democracy because I can call you a shitting fucktard, and not get hauled away in the middle of the night in a police van!” You can use that one on your most hated politician if you like. You’re welcome.

3: Junk mail

I can’t wait to get the equivalent of a small Swedish forest in junk mail through the letter box. I just can’t wait. Oh what fun, fun, fun, I get to look at a bunch of horribly Photoshopped pics of politicians’ ugly mugs and their fugly, fugly children. And I can have a lot of fun arbitrarily deciding who’s getting my vote and who’s not, based on which one of you has the hottest daughter/wife.

4: Spam

Much like the above, this involves around a gigabyte of unsolicited, boring and horribly phrased press releases, scare mongering emails and other, sundry, ridiculous bullshit from both parties’ propaganda machines. And I’ll have a lot of fun blacklisting your mail servers, you lowdown, illegally lifting email addresses fucks.

5: Knocks on the door

Oh yes, this one is my favourite. Nothing like a greasy politician’s knock on my door to get my evening chilling started. Well, a hot argument about why he’s not getting my vote would actually be better. But that’s if I don’t use one of my 13 patented ways of getting rid of pestering bastards at my door.

6: Mass meetings

They’re exactly like Isle of MTV, but lamer, cheesier, and a whole lot more annoying. And they’re happening in your town, for weeks on end, with nary a warning, and of course, won’t feature Snoop Dogg. Can’t you just feel all the fun we’re having here? But there will be a theme song, no two, and how awesome they will be both be, right?

7: Carcades

The ultimate bastion of civilization, the carcade. Which of course makes me wonder, given the fact that we have no more old buses now, what are people going to carcade with? Oh I get it, the construction industry, which is so independent of politics, will more than happily furnish us with 500 of their trucks, for party nitwits to jump, dance, get drunk on and hopefully fall off. There, I said it, I hope you ignorant, halfwit bastards fall off your mechanical, electoral victory high horse.

8: Coach Peppi

I can’t wait to see who Peppi will be coaching this time around. Of course, shame Peppi let himself go so badly these past few years. Had he still been fit and sprightly, we might have been regaled with earth shattering footage of George Pullicino plodding around the Marsa Race Track, most probably while Adele’s Rolling in the Deep plays on repeat in his iPod.

MarkBiwwa is also on  Facebook and Twitter. Follow to get daily doses of funny, ironic shit.

Quoting directly from the Times here:

“Article 224 of the Criminal Code specifies that if a homicide, or bodily harm, occurs at night and involves the victims breaking into the property, then no offence would have been committed.

According to the Criminal Code, it is a case of lawful defence if an aggressor is killed, or injured, at night-time – between the hours of sunset and sunrise – if the homicide, or harm, is the result of preventing the aggressor from entering an inhabited house, apartment or a connected annex, either by scaling walls or breaking enclosures and doors into it.”

Now I don’t know who the Times’ legal researcher is, and I don’t give much of a shit either, but I do know that what they seem to want you to think is that the law is an ass, specifically an ass of such celestial proportions that from a distance you might mistake it for Beyonce.

So, are you telling me that I stand to gain if I’m attacked in my own home during winter, given that the nights are that much longer? I use ‘stand to gain’ quite loosely here, as of course, an uninvited visitor is of no real gain to anyone.

And is the 21st of December, the longest night in a calendar year, the best night for you to violently repel a siege on your domicile, much like in Home Alone 1, 2, and 3?

Of course not. As usual, the Times neglects to give the whole picture. A cursory look at Article 224 of the Maltese Criminal Code will show anyone, even if they’re entirely unschooled in matters of the law, that the Times’ story is just more sensationalism. Conveniently enough, sensationalism is good for business. Very fucking good for business in fact. How do I know? Simple.

Take a look at the pic below. I snapped that at 12.49 on 5.1.2012. Of nine “In Discussion” stories, that is the stories which currently are getting most comments, four are related to the Sliema murders. Just yesterday the ratio was even higher, if memory serves me right six of nine. It’s safe to say the Times got quite a lot of mileage (by which I mean pageviews) out of the story.

So, here’s how the whole of article 224 reads.  You’ll notice it’s considerably different to what the Times is inferring:

 

224. Cases of actual necessity of lawful defence shall include
the following:

(a) where the homicide or bodily harm is committed in the
act of repelling, during the night-time, the scaling or
breaking of enclosures, walls, or the entrance doors of
any house or inhabited apartment, or of the
appurtenances thereof having a direct or an indirect
communication with such house or apartment;

(b) where the homicide or bodily harm is committed in the
act of defence against any person committing theft or
plunder, with violence, or attempting to commit such
theft or plunder;

(c) where the homicide or bodily harm is imposed by the
actual necessity of the defence of one’s own chastity or
of the chastity of another person.

 

 
So in brief, no, an assault on your residence at night is not the only case where deadly violence is ‘allowed by the law’. In fact, if you read Article 223, it plainly states that: “No offence is committed when a homicide or a bodily harm is ordered or permitted by law or by a lawful authority, or is imposed by actual necessity either in lawful self-defence or in the lawful defence of another person.”

I leave you to make your own judgements, no pun intended.

Satisfying public curiosity

I was always taught there’s such a thing as the ‘public’s right to know’ and the ‘public’s need to know’. Now I can understand that the public has every right to know that there’s been a murder and also why that murder happened, but only when the evidence is in and clear. Why do we feel the need to satisfy the public curiosity on every single aspect of this confusing, obfuscated and intensely personal tragedy? It’s not helping anyone. It’s not helping the family members grieve and come to terms. It’s not helping investigators, who must be drowning under a sea of false leads and useless comments. And it’s not helping us, general public, in any way either, because most of this shit we’ve read is hearsay and doesn’t actually affect us.

A sentence which has been lifted directly from the Times – “The sources said “there will be some surprises” as to the manner in which the men died after the autopsy revealed “much more than expected”. Really? Well who is your source and why is he/she talking to the media? And what kind of a bullshit statement is that to even put out in front your readers? Much more than expected? Meaning what exactly? More than expected. Yeah, you media lot are being a whole lot more like assholes than expected of you, that’s for sure.

The Times of Malta - scaling the pinnacles of good taste. Seriously, a knife? Did you have to do that?

Diverting the issue

You tell me what’s most important for Malta right now, a sad, intensely personal double killing, or the fact that Franco Debono is close to forcing Government to fold and call early elections? Why do you divert the issue so? I can tell you why, murders sell more papers. We’re bored with Franco and all the other suited muppets, and we want blood to satisfy our primal urges. The newspapers are happy to give that to us, unconfirmed and ridden with lies and gossip, all for the sake of a few thousand more pageviews on their respective websites. Why? More pageviews means more people read the paper, meaning we can charge more for advertising. Get it through your thick skulls, none of this is about informing you. It’s all about money to the media guys.

Fuel conspiracies

Fueling conspiracies seems to be the main reason why the Times of Malta comment boards exist. Stop it. It’s ridiculous. For a start, if the Times doesn’t want its supposedly sterling name dragged through shit any longer, it should recognise that even the most mediocre of newspapers overseas do not allow users to post comments on all stories. And way I see it, allowing comments on a double murder story is pathetic, lame, tantamount to screaming for attention and inviting trouble. What could anyone, fucking anyone, have to say about this sad, once again intensely personal tragedy that should be seen by everyone else? Don’t let people spread gossip, lies and completely unfounded conspiracy theories to such a large platform. Doing that is fucking evil.

I'll call the Police Commissioner when you're done here, Mr fucking Colombo.

Facebook

Perhaps the most tasteless aspect of the whole story, the Facebook images. That is not reportage. Daphne takes photos from Facebook and creates a story around them. Are you media lot emulating Daphne? I thought you already had a story to report here after all. And fine, so you take the images and use them, you’re lazy and your idea of research is right click – save as. Fine. Why do you blur out the faces of the two 3 month old babies. Anyone going to recognise them when they walk down the street or something? Everyone knows who these kids are now, why not go full hog and show us their faces too? Or would doing that not let you sleep at night?

And whose brilliant idea was it to snap a pic of the wife’s Facebook profile showing that she allegedly was Facebook friends with the attacker’s brother? So fucking what? And exactly how does that constitute good reporting you lowdown scum? Oh, and telling me that ‘Facebook comments suggest the victim was well loved and respected’ is fucking bullshit and you know it.

Journalism - You're doing it wrong, you cynical, spiteful, lazy bastards.

Forensic points

Let me ask you something. It seems that the baby twins were splattered with their father’s blood in the deadly altercation. It was reported in multiple newspapers. But exactly how did knowing that fact change your life in any way, for the better or for the worse? It didn’t. Why do we need to know these things? It’s not that I’m squeamish, it’s that these things are forensic points, and useful only to whomever is investigating the crime scene, not to Joe Public in the street. And it’s not like we’re stupid are we? Two men died, and there are two knives involved. We can guess it involved a lot of blood. We don’t need newspapers to tell us the men were found in a pool of blood and bla and bla and bla. We don’t actually need to know these things. Details such as these have a time and place. That time and place is a Police investigation file, and eventually, one might hope, even if maybe not in this case, a court of law, where someone is to be judged innocent or guilty by a jury of their peers, although looking at all you conniving, gossip mongering lowdown evil scum I’m starting to feel rather peerless myself.

To make things clear - 

I’ve avoided writing about the New Year’s Day double murder in Sliema because it’s an intensely personal occurrence and none of the nation’s business. I thought it would be rightfully seen this way. It wasn’t. The media have turned this sordid affair into a circus, and shame on them for doing so. I am not the media. I’m just one man with a lot of opinions. I have no editorial policy and I write what I damn well please. And I’m pretty goddamn open with it too. And I’ll be even more open right now. If you like what I do here and want to help out, contact me to donate or advertise.

This year, free of all editorial constraints, I decided to go a different route and inject you with a healthy dose of realism. By realism I mean ‘tell you where you and your choices suck’, like I did when I wrote my 7 Reasons Why New Years Eve Parties In Malta Either Suck, Or Blow. It’s not that I want to piss on your proverbial bonfire at all, it’s just that these are 5 New Year’s Resolutions you’ll never keep.

1: Lose weight

Probably the most popular of all New Year’s resolutions is to lose weight, which is not the same as ‘to loose weight‘, which is both incorrect and conjures up disgustingly flabby images. Needless to say, New Year’s is the worst time to make this decision. For a start, you haven’t enjoyed so much hearty food since this time last year, which makes it even harder to get started. Second, it’s the toughest time all year round to start exercising, what with less daylight hours and whatnot. And third, not only is convincing yourself to get off the sofa and move around tougher than ever around these months, it’s also the toughest time to actually warm your body up in order to get that fat a-burning. Plus, if you go for a run, you get back home with a river of snot streaming down your face, which will certainly not help your ‘feel good cause’. So stop freaking out for now, let that heavy coat cover your supposed heaviness and let the panic wait until May.

You too can wear your Mum's pregnant pants and own this look of satisfaction!

2: Stop smoking

Quitting the fags is also a very popular New Year’s resolution, for reasons which I can both understand and also not quite fathom. I can understand why one would want to quit smoking, but I don’t know why anyone would try to kickstart this new way of life on the night when a cigarette is most acceptable and agreeable. Listen, even with the hangover and raspy throat you’re gonna wake up with on New Year’s Day, a cigarette will still be the one thing you crave most, so you’re just making it harder on yourself to quit. Oh, and if you decide to quit smoking at midnight, while with a half smoked fag in one hand and a drink in the other, your resolution is automatically moot and set to fail. Unless your self control happens to go by the name Bear Grylls that is.

I know what you're doing there, and that's definitely not what I would call 'quitting smoking''.

3: Stop drinking

Much like smoking, only even more socially acceptable. Listen, for the past few weeks you’ve been drinking more than you have all year round. You’ve had drinks with your mum, drinks with your baby sister, even socially sanctioned drinks with your boss at the office. And now you say you want to quit drinking? Well I’m sorry, but your body will respond to this with a loud and violent ‘No’. Oh and also, after a long hard day at the office, when you’re back in the relatively freezing comfort of your Maltese house, can you tell me what will warm you up best between a) a gas heater, b) your air conditioner set on ‘heat’, and c) a glass of red, a shot of that 18 year old Scotch you got for Christmas and a generous tot of Cognac. Thought so.

And if you decide to stop drinking while at one of these parties, you're a pretentious spineless douche who deserves to be dragged out and have his knees broken with a 5 kilo ice cube bag.

4: Save money

Wow, that’s a bit rich innit? Have you any idea how much you spent on Christmas presents, food, fuel, booze, tickets for parties and new clothes in the past few weeks? Oh, and remind me, when did you last get paid? That’s right, probably a full week ago. And your next paycheck is not in at least 5 weeks. And you’ve already blown the cash Christmas presents you got. So what exactly did you intend to start saving with? Oh, so you did mean that in an ironic, post-modern sort of way. Riiight.

5: Get a better job

Listen, we get it, we honestly do. Your life sucks, you hate your life, your job is bullshit and this is not what you set out to do. We feel you. Thing is though, at least 275,289,084 other people feel exactly the same way you do right now, and even more will start to think so as the clock nears 12 tonight. It’s perfectly natural to feel like you’re in a rut, especially if you are in one.

Problem is, come January, when you start to make gentle enquiries with the ultimate purveyors of pipe dreams and fantasies, that is to say job recruitment agencies, thousands have already done so too. And few people will leave their job in January because hey, everyone’s fucking broke and it’s really bad mojo to start the year on an uncertain footing. So there will be no jobs for you to have. So you stay in your current job, unhappy as ever, until a couple of interviews open up in March and you don’t even show up for them, because you were blind drunk when you decided you wanted to change your life and weren’t even totally certain that you were alive at all.

This is you going to the bathroom on New Year's Eve. And you're telling me that you want to change your life?