Crikey, what a blinder of a year this one’s been!
Kylie came back, Kim Beazley came a cropper and Darren Hayes came out.
Ian Roberts found himself accused of DV, Desperate Housewife Felicity Huffman engaged in a bit of TV, and TV’s Doogie Howser (Neil Patrick Harris) announced he was gay.
So did that weird-looking guy who used to be in N’Sync. Meh.
Ian Thorpe, meanwhile, denied he was fat or a fag, while Alan Jones got a literary turkey slapping from Chris Masters.
Camilla from Big Brother got a literal turkey slapping from her housemates Ashley and John, while the resident hornbag, Jamie, proved that having a body of death, a cock of death and a personality of death was no impediment to winning the prize.
Philip Seymour Hoffman won the prize for playing gay (in Capote), while the world learned that a cowboy cocksucker could refer to much more than just a drink.
The world also learned that Keith Urban liked a drink, or 10, and that George Michael liked to fall asleep in his car, now and then.
Alas, George proved to be the trainwreck of the year, lurching from disaster to pot-bellied disaster, while a noticeably rotund Boy George seemed to clean up his act while cleaning up the streets of New York.
The streets of New York seemed to be where The Pussycat Dolls found most of their dress-up clothes, while Dolce and Gabbana dressed up the Italian men’s soccer team -“ another bunch of preening show-ponies -“ in little more than hot oil.
The Italian men’s soccer team introduced us to a new definition of the term taking a dive, while The Glasshouse (RIP) brought us that great new word, wadge.
Britney promptly flashed her wadge, while Madge flashed her brand new African baby. Brangelina showed off their baby, TomKat showed their weird alien thing, and Daniel Craig showed that he was one fuck-off fabulous piece of man-flesh.
And to finish off our retro-gazing, let’s remember that this was the year that a Finnish death metal act won Eurovision. Oh Lordi, indeed.
As Lindsay Lohan might say, it’s been quite the adeqite year.