Hello, everybody! Welcome to 2012. Jess is asleep on the couch in front of me after a hard night of partying with our bros, and I’m running on six pitiful hours of sleep. What better time to cast a groggy mind back across the year that was? Let’s fire up the Retroscope and sort through the best of two thousand and eleven.

Ours, naturally: on July 6 this year (our fifth anniversary of being together), Jess and I were married at St. Matthews Anglican Church, in Guildford! It was a fairly small affair with only 50-odd people but it was totally amazing, and went off without a hitch (aside from the bit where we actually got hitched). You can see some photos of the event right here.

The night before the wedding, my brother Simon threw me a buck’s night at his house. As I don’t drink and am not into strippers, he decided to put me through a punishing series of Manliness Tests instead. These ranged from mowing his lawn, to cooking a ham and cheese sandwich on the barbeque (surprisingly difficult), to explaining exactly how a car worked (sorcery?) to smashing pieces of concrete. With my very own personalised, engraved sledgehammer.

My final score was a very acceptable 435 out of a possible 550, and Simon presented me with my very own “Approved for Marriage” certificate. Which I promptly accidentally left somewhere at the church and lost forever. Thanks Simon!

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Hi!

Well, sorry about that little hiatus yesterday, but I felt like a butt, and then I went and did things anyway, so what resulted is that the time I had free at home I spent in bed asleep! True story. But I did get to hang out with my bro Deebs, who is leaving us in less than three weeks! :(:(:(

Anyway, today I’m meant to talk to you about what song ‘inspires’ me. Fuck that!

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Having told, and retold, this story more times than I can actually remember, I figure it’s about time that I immortalised it in print. This has two benefits: first of all, the next time somebody asks me about it I can write down this site’s address, slip it into their shirt pocket and slap them on the shoulder in an overly familiar and slightly condescending manner, saving myself time and energy while simultaneously reinforcing my image as a huge wanker. Secondly and perhaps more importantly, Jess – who has heard the story approximately seventeen-and-a-half bajillion times – will no longer have to restrain herself from choking me to death every time the story needs retelling.

But what is the story, Tim. What’s it all about. Well, I’m glad you asked…

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