[Me, shaking my head sadly, looking at the velociraptor I married in the '90s when they didn't have feathers and were bigger than turkeys.] You've changed.

Right, I have 26 minutes to do all the minor things I said I'd do before the end of the year. So they will *definitely* be done now.

Having spent November immured in #Blakes7, this video confirms my suspicions as to why it's still popular. I don't think it's a very good programme. But if it *were* good, it'd be fucking amazing. It's like the British version of '70s anime.

CONCEPT: "Twilight Zone"-style set-up where a bored teenage boy in an Ikea showroom opens one of the drawers, and finds a stash of porn mags identical to his own, complete with "marks of use". FEEDBACK FROM ACTUAL TEENAGERS: What are "mags"?

Pleased to discover that if you type "Eras Video" into Google, it isn't sure whether to give you Taylor Swift or the Fast Show.

If nothing else*, this was the year when I 2Wordled five times. *Nothing else.

We, erm... we maybe should've talked about this more.

Turns out Tesco delivery springs back into action v. quickly after Christmas, but don't even think about ordering anything pork-related. Sausage rolls? Hahahah. No, not today. Pigs in blankets? You're a week late for *that* treasure, Indiana. The bacon-and-cheese DO NOT BOTHER FINISHING THE REQUEST.

Can someone tell me when "Feliz Navidad" became part of Christmas canon? I've literally never heard it (I've heard a brief snatch of it on "House of Games"), and I never even heard *of* it until last year. It seems like something planted in our consciousness retroactively, like Michael McIntyre was.

I hate being angry. I just can't be anything else any more.

If you saw this frame in a movie, you'd know exactly what it signified: the face of some power-hungry abusive cult. It's "Carols from King's" on BBC2. I have no interest in being a banner-waving c*** like Richard Dawkins. But it's the 21st century and Christianity is a fucking menace. (1/2)

Never put a Brexiter in charge of your ionisation project. #DoctorWho #BBC4

Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. I'm psychologically collapsing, but I *still* can't help doing the Wes Streeting / Grima Wormtongue schtick. Because the Palantir thing was too good to pass up even though I want to die.

Okay. This has literally been the worst year of my life. I'm depressed, angry, anxious, paranoid, and now the ceiling's collapsed just like I told people it would. I know we get booted off social media for threatening public figures, but: if Wes Streeting wants to come over, it's Thunderdome rules.

I made this about ten years ago, and never posted it because it seemed a bit... obvious. But the prick who lives upstairs from me and the leaking shower that was installed against the terms of this building's covenant have done so much structural damage that today my fucking ceiling collapsed SO -

The high water mark of the series. So to speak.

Version of "Superwholock" for oldhead nerds that combines the original #DoctorWho, the Sunday Classics "Hound of the Baskervilles" with Tom Baker, and the 1977 BBC anthology series "Supernatural". (Here's an episode of it with Jeremy Brett being 120% Jeremy Brett.) www.youtube.com/watch?v=eXc8...

Now we have the best #Strictly winner ever, we can worry about new presenters. Tess' role can safely be taken by Fleur from #ItTakesTwo, who's proved herself popular and more than competent. Claudia's role should ideally go to some kind of filthy CGI cocaine goblin motion-captured by Andy Serkis.

They should turn the Epstein Files into a game like Wordle, where you can type words over the redactions and see how many letters you've got right. Although admittedly Wordle doesn't have the same five-letter word as the answer every time.

Credible.

FIRST VERSE: I saw three ships come sailing in ⁠On Christmas day, on Christmas day; I saw three ships come sailing in, And yet this is an urbanised area Of a non-coastal county. SECOND VERSE: ["X Files" music plays.]⁠

Relatabeetles.

I'm bored of gender now. My pronouns are ho/hum.

I'd like to describe Dick Van Dyke as "the oldest living 'Columbo' murderer", but a question-mark still hangs over Lee Grant. (Regarding her birthday. Not whether she's still alive.)

In total, the True Love in "The Twelve Days of Christmas" delivers 364 presents, close enough to the number of days in a year that History Channel programmes about Mayan prophecies would argue it's a secret caldendrical code. Does the True Love themself count as the 365th gift?

On this day in #DoctorWho, 1965: "Counter Plot", the fifth episode of "The Daleks' Masterplan", featuring William Hartnell as Jeff the Killer.

If you're the sort of person who can pick up a pair of tongs *without* snapping them together a few times as if you were some form of sinister crab, then I don't think we can be friends.

I couldn't help it: after I wrote that, I had to find out what an AI generates if you ask it for "a boot stamping on a human face forever". [Cue Tony Hart gallery music.]

Imagine an object that partially resembles a boot stamping on a human face with two noses, forever.

British culture has normalised genderfluidity for literal centuries. We're traditionally obsessed with disrupted sex roles, with drag, with bi-romanticism, with gay transvestite celebrities. So HOW THE HELL DID *WE* END UP AS TERF ISLAND? It's like the Swiss becoming The People Who Resent Chocolate.

You know that episode of "The Prisoner" where Number Two gets a special Appreciation Day, but it's an assassination attempt and his medal's got a bomb in it? I'm just saying, maybe FIFA know what they're doing.

one of the doozers may have seen me naked

You never hear anyone talk about "spondoolicks" any more, do you? I suppose most of them were replaced by the Euro.

I know there was a lot of controversy, but I feel the Washington Redskins could've kept their name if they'd just changed their logo from a Native American to a Tiefling. And turned up in full LARP. Also it would've been a way of getting nerds to watch... [checks Wiki] ...American football.

Sideshow Bob Being Repeatedly Hit in the Face by Rakes (William Hogarth, 1734).

You say "AI assistant". I say "uncanny valet".

Just learned that Danny Elfman was the composer for all three "Fifty Shades of Grey" movies. Now I'm imagining the characters trying to have sex in time to the music while it's going OOMPA-oompa-OOMPA-oompa-OOMPA-oompa... I'd probably watch that.

Right, this needs to be addressed. "Oh, I could care less" was originally meant as sarcasm: say it in a New York Yiddish voice and you get it, you're very aggressively saying that you *couldn't* care less. But it's been repeated so often that the snark has been lost.

Fifty years. Fifty years since that dark winter night when I ran screaming into the kitchen and barricaded the door so I couldn't see or hear the bellowing ghost-faced men on "Top of the Pops". Two years later they were killed by a giant robot, which was almost worse. www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m...

Benedict Arnold, 1780.

Listen, it doesn't matter how many times Channel 4 shows us the news footage from 1991, I just refuse to believe Robert Maxwell's Death Yacht was called "Lady Ghislaine". No-one who was around at the time remembered this until... you know... recently. Obviously a ret-con.

The first rule of Wordle Club is: if there's a 50-50 chance, then you *will* pick the wrong one.

#DoctorWho #Sadric

Admit it: when he said "All About Eve", you thought it was going to be the Martha's Harbour Incident, didn't you? #TOTP

D'you remember the days when cyberpunk represented a dystopia? If you told me today that the future's going to be like "Blade Runner" or "Neuromancer", I'd be relieved there's at least going to be a functioning civilisation in forty years. Where at least the evil AIs don't try to draw.