First of all Happy New Year.

Woo-hoo…etc etc…

Now that all the customary pleasantries are out of the way, I can begin my blog.

Despite my apparent gripe towards the new year, this post is about exactly that.

Did you receive, or worse, send a text message containing the message HAPPY NEW YEAR? Was it within a five minutes of the clock striking midnight? Eugh.

I can begrudgingly tolerate close family and friends partaking in this activity. What I take issue with – and I know that this makes me sound like a moaning old git – are those who message greetings to everyone in their phone book, as if they’re playing Michael McIntyre’s ‘Send to All’ game.

Last night, there were no doubt many revellers who sent a text message, wishing a mate in their phone book a happy new year. This will be regardless of the fact that the last time any communication was made between the two “friends”, was exactly 12 months earlier, and involved sending an identical insincere greeting.

I’m going to stop complaining now and actually write something I am happy about…

The year is now 2020. Hooray! A new decade and one we can finally refer to, which everyone else can understand.

I was born in the 1980s – the eighties. I went to school in the 1990s – the nineties. A decade later, I got my first job. But what decade do I call that? Oh, and please don’t say the “noughties”, as I will instantly lose any respect for you.

Get it in the bin!

The decade we have just left has the same problem. I have heard it called the “teenies”. That’s another horrible word. It sounds like a spin-off from the children’s tv show, The Tweenies.

The Tweenies are now ten years older and their big red dog has left to go and live on a farm – at least that’s what their parents told them. They are spotty, grumpy teenagers, with hormones rushing through their veins. The Teenies.

Trips to the beach to build sandcastles, games of musical chairs and baking cakes with Granny Tweeny are a thing of the past.

The girl Teenies spend all their time in the bathroom, coating their face in makeup, like a gardener painting his fence with Ronseal. The boys Teenies lock themselves in their bedroom to think about the girl Teenies.

Thank goodness we are now in the twenties!

Don’t do drugs, kids…

… or you could end up like this!