Like you, I’m not very fond of the quintessential party pooper, skulking round in the corner, moping and crapping all over everyone’s booze-induced state of euphoria. However, this year I am going to be your party pooper; only because whilst the rest of you lounge about on your couches, eating bacon butties and watching reruns of Life on Mars (as you should on a Sunday and the start of the bloody year) I am back at work, wrapping up deadlines and the like.
