2012 in brief:
Frozen dog piss.
Topiary armchairs.
Holding a large piece of stone.
Consolidating your Argos bags.
Suggestive trees.
Killing a pigeon at the traffic lights.
Black-tracksuit-bottoms-with-white-bits-on.
A scale model of a baby rabbit.
BMW slippers.
All-year-round head-to-toe-waterproof running man.
Farting loudly by the turnips.
Carrying things out within the usual framework.
Stuffing a punctured leather football over your tow-bar.
Bobbing over when she gets back.
Avoiding the giant fat ceramic blue tit.
Talking to yourself in a scouse accent.
Lapwings, fieldfares, a moorhen, a buzzard, three plastic herons and two dozen bottles of Budweiser.
A half-sized resin statue of a horse.
Girls in leggings, texting.
A big picture window at the front that looks out onto your neighbour's Mitsubishi Animal.
A lettuce.
Adjusting your cock.
Predominantly black lycra.
Eating some shat-out berries on top of a gate post.
Following a large hare for about fifty yards.
A pantomime maggot.
Like To Get To Know You Well by Howard Jones.
Wheeling a broken swivel chair out to your bins.
Making a noise like a sheep.
Power walking: C’mon! Put you arms into it! POWER WALK!
Another headless pigeon corpse.
Having a fucking word with yourself.
Disembodied hands.
The Most Luxurious Club In The North.
Shouting into the phone in Urdu.
The severed head of a stone tortoise.
Zumba, Yoga for Pregnancy and a Craft Workshop.
Distracting a rat.
'Value' pregnancy testing.
Bootses.
Wearing a green dressing gown in lieu of a coat.
Wearing a stab vest.
Jamie’s Italy.
