I mean, anything could happen. This Tory Cinematic Universe in which we’re all background artistes, with the stars anchored wide-legged and slack-jawed beside poles surrounded by broken crockery, continues its relentless storyline of implausibility and poor gags.
An exclusive coterie of four – me, Chef, Chris and Melanie – booked the inside of a barrel at the Town and Gown for lunch on New Year’s Eve to resurrect the tradition interrupted in 2020 by the thing. We slung together some random half-arsed predictions for 2022 after some wine and cocktails, and present them to you below, after the visual interlude. I apologise in advance.
Predictions
- Chef: Still Boris Johnson this time next year?
- Chef: yes
- Melanie: nope, he’ll be gone by March
- David: no, July
- Chris wanted it on record for some reason that the four of us “will go out to eat at a vegan restaurant in 2022”
- David: Will the dear old queen make it to 2023?
- Chris: yes
- Melanie: yes
- David: yes
- Chef: no, she’ll pop off in October
- Chef thinks the James Webb Space Telescope deployment will fail in some way and it’ll be toast
- Chris: Will ARM be bought by Nvidia?
- Chris: yes, September
- Melanie: yes, August
- David: yes, July
- Chef: yes, June
- Chris: Will WH Smith still exist on the high street?
- Chris: no
- Melanie: no
- David: yes
- Chef: yes
- Melanie: Will Adrian have a job?
- Consensus: nope
- Melanie: Will Prince Andrew lose that civil case against him?
- Chris: yes
- Melanie: no
- David: no
- Chef: yes
- David: What will be the name of the most recent major Covid variant?
- Chris: Ting-tong
- Melanie: Mut (Egyptian hieroglyph, Vulture)
- David: Psi
- Chef: Alpha-gamma
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