2014 proved to be a turning point for me; some stuff happened.  And it would appear that quite a lot of stuff happened for all the other people too. 

Lovable. That is all.

George Clooney finally stopped bachelorising, and married a woman.  She turned out to have her own successful career (Hell’s teeth), and be more interesting than his Hollywood one. *audible gasp.  Brangelina had a pretty impressive year; William Hague was rendered speechless by Ange’s otherworldliness bones, and I’m not sure who was more star struck at the meeting between la Jolie and HRH Queenie Liz. And also, after her knighthood (or maybe before), Sir Angelina got married in a scribbly dress, made a film and saved the World. Did I say ‘Brangelina’? I meant just her. He grew an epic beard. And then shaved it. Then grew it back. And wore a suit.

Russell Brand became Che Guevara/Jesús, got pushed in a fountain while delivering an historic speech (of sorts) and also saved the World.  Him and Sir Ange talked about forming a World-saving superhero posse.

Jeremy Clarkson talked a lot of crap.  No one was surprised. A team of scientists landed a space probe on Kim Kardashian. No one was surprised.

There were some babies around, most notably the one belonging to K-Middy and the Fresh Prince (scandal), and Kate Moss smoked some fags, turned forty and went to some parties. And smoked some fags.

But what’s going to occur in the new year? The World’s a crazy freaking place right now, so anything could happen.

By the power of my brain magic, I predict that in 2015, Duchess Cambridge of Kate will have a baby. It will be a girl and they will call her Princess Beyonce and claim that they just ‘always loved that name’, and were not in the slightest bit inspired by their meeting with their Royal Highnesses, the King and Queen of New York. Disney will make a movie about it.

And, as if that wasn’t enough excitement for one twelve month period, Kate Moss will turn forty one and go to some parties. And smoke some fags. Not only that, her ‘It’-cousin, Alexa Chung will ‘change-up’ her hair four times, ‘style-up’ some clothes fourteen times and ‘wear-up’ some shoes. Groundbreaking. Deeply inspired by this, I, will ‘pull-up’ my Spanx.

It’s highly likely George Clooney will become President of the Western World, and employ the BrandAnge posse into the cabinet, to continue their world-saving work. His wife will become a special human rights correspondent on E! Entertainment News, and fight for her basic human right to a bigger wardrobe allowance. He will also take Pope Francis on, as his right hand man, and reward him with a lifetime’s supply of Cuban cigars. The Rock-n-roll Pope ® will front a band for a hobby.

In other controversial news, a woman without a beard, singing a song, will win Eurovision. She will go on to also win a makeup contract with L’Oréal, usurping Cheryl Vladimir-Rubicon, and become the face of…… well, the face of ordinary women everywhere, not having any particular kind of statement to make.

Punchable. That is all.

After spending 2014, receiving great acclaim for nothing at all, Kim Kardashian will be terribly brave again, as she tries courageously to inflate her breasts to the same size as her bum, and break the Internet #allday. For this, she will finally win the Nobel Peace Prize, towards which she has been tirelessly working for years. And, talking of ar*eholes, Jennifer Lopez’s bum will launch its own pop career, after its hugely successful debut single in 2014, Booty. The album will be creatively titled, ‘I am Booty’.

Finally, amongst all that high brow goings-on, Ms Anne Pank (that’s me) *will be endeavouring to meet a nice, steady accountant, start thinking about settling down, get a mortgage, stop drinking gin, set up a pension and stop writing about all the shenanigarising.

Hang on to your hats people, we’re in for one hell of a ride.

In the spirit of true altruism, you won’t be completely surprised to discover, I have been locked in gruelling negotiations, for ooohhh, the last thirteen seconds, after which Paddy Power (and all other high street gambling establishments), have finally agreed to open a book on the above. And I, as your ever caring Anne PANK, am giving you the inside scoop. You’re welcome.

From me to you with love. Keep it on the down low.
Happy New Year!
Annie P.
Xxx

*Just don’t put your life savings on that last one.