Yes, I realise I didn’t predict 2022, and yes I realise we're already in March. I spent the last days of 2021 at a writer’s retreat in Montpelier, which resulted in my marvelous debut novel being conceived of. I haven’t yet gotten round to writing said novel, but the conception of the idea happened and no one can take that away from me. I let ideas gestate in my mind for a number of years before beginning to write, it’s my process, my rules. If I were to begin writing before the idea had fermented, it’d merely be an insult to my hypothetical fans, most of whom are happy to wait for the gourmet reading experience I will undoubtedly serve up with a flourish. I know some may think me arrogant that I’d treat my hypothetical fans thusly, but, what i’m trying to get across here is how little I care about pleasing my hypothetical, imaginary fans.
But, let’s get to the task at hand. Predicting what will happen for every month of 2023. I'm Muriel Sticks, and this is my moment.
January
Rattlesnakes will be introduced to the United Kingdom by the barrelful. Some will welcome the move as a step towards diversifying the UK’s reptile population, some will claim it’s all part of a plan to aid population control. Some will attempt to befriend the rattlesnakes and create Tiktok accounts in their name. One of those accounts, named "SquamataSimp38" will become uber-famous within a week of it's creation, the rattlesnake and the account's human creator will then be invited on to This Morning, where the rattlesnake will bite Philip Schofield, giving him an aggressive form of coagulapathy or disrupted blood clotting, which he'll eventually die of.
February
The funeral of beloved national treasure Philip Schofield will happen this month. The service will include a segment with Holly Willoughby ritually slaughtering an actor dressed as a rattlesnake. The identity of said actor will be unknown till several months later when it transpires the actor was Laurence Fox, trying to weedle his way back in to the acting profession after becoming a national cunt.
March
Vladimir Putin will win this months Good Housekeeping Magazine's "weird celebrity crush" contest. Richard Osman will come second, leading to a rift between the two unlikely sex Gods. The US, France and the UK will arm Osman with surface-to-air missiles and Challenger tanks in order to fight back against Russian forces pushing further into Osman's territory.
April
Elon Musk will fly into space this month in one of his SpaceX rockets. Whilst in space he'll launch a poll on Twitter asking whether he should stay in his module, or open the door to 'let some air in'. The latter option will win overwhelmingly, and Musk, a self-described 'free speech absolutist', will kill everyone on board, including himself, by opening the window. His fans back on Earth will celebrate Musk's life by continuing to be insufferable.
My ex-boyfriend Sam was a Musk superfan. I remember him telling me about a time he was shaving, gazing into the mirror, guiding the razor round his chiselled jawbones. He said men find shaving therapeutic, it allows them to stare deep into their own eyes, inspecting their soul, as their breath slowly obscures the mirror. He found it comforting, but one time he wiped the mirror clean and had a sudden attack of nerves. He looked at himself as a man and thought "how can I match up to Elon? I'm nothing, i'm worthless compared to him, look at me. Look at this skin, this awful face!" Then he'd start to shave faster, not caring about the cuts to his chin, his upper lip, his jawbone, he shaved and cut and shaved and cut, till his face was caked with blood. He let out an anguished, quiet howl of terror, like a bereaved mime. He hated himself, his horrible, worthless face. Not a face Elon would dare look at. It was a shame as well, it was little Percy's birthday party downstairs, Sam's nephew, there were Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle balloons and banners all set up, and now Sam would ruin it all with his bloody, lacerated, unshaven face. His shame had ruined little Percy's big day. This is what Musk does to men.
May
The coronation of King Charles III will end in bloodshed. Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby will place the crown on Charles' head, Prince Harry will ride in on his trusty steed, smack Welby on the back with a steel chair, take the crown from his father's head and urinate in it. The urination will take a while as Harry will find it hard to go with onlooking strangers, chancellor of the exchequer Jeremy Hunt will attempt to help the Prince by whispering things in his ear related to water. "Gushing waterfalls, sitting beside a meadow watching the coots, surfing a wave on Santa Monica beach, ejaculating into a waste-paper basket in a Las Vegas hotel room".
After an hour of frenzy and fisticuffs, Westminster Abbey will suddenly come to a halt when Queen Elizabeth II walks in to the theme tune of D-Generation X, takes a seat on the throne and says to the Archbishop, "crown me". The pay-per-view then fades to black with the image of Elizabeth back on the throne, Charles looking dejected and Harry shaking his tip.
Also, Boris Johnson will make a comeback as Britain's prime minister this month after the Conservative Party are decimated in the local elections. Johnson will celebrate winning back his old job by posing nude for the ConservativeHome website holding a face mask over his todger.
Keir Starmer, jealous at the gushing attention Johnson will get from female conservative voters, will do the same on the front cover of The Guardian Weekly, with the Labour Party's 2017 manifesto covering his 'Assembly of Nations and Regions'.
June
Kate Bush will release a surprise new album in June. '5000 words for Blow", a largely avant-garde album, will feature Bush list 5000 different names for cocaine, taking a hit of the white stuff herself after uttering each name. By the 20th name, Bush will be so fucked up, she'll be twirling, twisting, gyrating, her eyes wide open and manic, all the stuff her fans love to see. I used to be a massive Kate fan, I wrote her numerous letters, though the cretin never replied. Admittedly, all of those letters were about David Bowie, my soul-mate, whom I thought Kate might know and be able to introduce me to, but alas, she proved herself to be of no use to Muriel Sticks. So I won't pay much attention to this new album.
July
July will see the learned county of Oxfordshire trial a new ‘purge’ day, where residents will, by law, be allowed to be absolutely lovely to one another for a day. The purge will last from 7am to 10pm. The Lord Mayor of Oxford will toll a bell in the morning, declaring the purge active. The authorities will hope this day of purgation will act as a sort of communal therapy, where people can de-stress and socialise, be the neighbours they always say they should be, go to that coffee morning at the local Catholic church they always put off, mow the elderly Mrs Bramble’s lawn and water her Sweet Williams, perhaps visit the local Mosque and apologise for 40 years of the Daily Mail being your paper of choice. When the bell tolls at 10pm, the day of pleasant purgation will come to an end, the streets will be lined with tables, party hats, balloons and paper plates left from numerous street parties across the county, the parks will be immaculate from the litter-picking brigade of men and women, old and young, a miasma of kindness and good will fills the air, the good people of Oxfordshire will be ready for another year of being absolute stuck-up cunts to one another.
August
Remote-viewing will become available on the NHS in August. Described on Wikipedia as ‘seeking impressions about a distant or unseen subject, purportedly sensing with the mind’, the government will claim it’s an opportunity for the British people to spy on each other, creating a surveillance state without the need for cameras, police officers or trained spooks. The move will backfire when Iris from Suffolk chooses to remote view home secretary Suella Braverman participating in demonic rituals. Far-right conspiracy theorists will welcome the news.
September
Chelsea owner Todd Boehly will attempt to sign NFL star Tom Brady this month. After the club's combined £1b spending spree, including Summer 2023 where they signed Neymar, Kylian Mbappe, Ronaldinho and Dixie Dean, Boehly will be eager to add a 'marquee signing' to the Chelsea ranks. Brady will initially favour the move, but his head will be turned by an offer from the Kingdom of Brunei to become their official yoghurt spokesperson.
October
President Joe Biden will die this month whilst filming a 'Hot Ones' interview on YouTube. The 82-year old president will make it through 5 different hot sauces, but will start to turn beet-red and complain about chest pains whilst sampling 'Da' Bomb Ghost Pepper Sauce'. Kamala Harris will take the oath of office and become America's first female president, with her first act of office to outlaw all hot sauce, thus causing a new American prohibition era. President-in-exile Donald Trump will try to show his manliness by broadcasting himself tasting the same hot sauce that Biden failed to conquer, but will also fail and die in agony.
November
The actor Tom Hiddleston will star in an avant-garde, experimental theatre show in London this month where the audience, for £50, will be able to lick the actor and extract DNA samples using mouth swabs. Hiddleston, in an interview, will claim the show is meant to satirise celebrity culture and the ever-narrowing chasm between private and public life. The Guardian's theatre critic Michael Billington will attend the show and will surreptitiously leave the venue laughing maniacally, holding large boxes full of Hiddle-samples.
December
Canada Geese will take over the World in December. All shall kneel before them.
