12 MONTHS AND WHY SOME OF YOUR CUTLERY IS MISSING


An alternative guide to the western calendar

Basic drawing of a calendar

The 12 months, expertly profiled. Featuring Tom Selleck’s sci-fi odyssey, possible sex-parties, the death of the lambs and a Cornish sea captain. An essential, life-changing guide to the obscure details and entirely fictional history of the western calendar.

1. January

Regarded as the pioneer of the western calendar, January solemnly leads its fellow months into each new year without any thought for its own popularity. January is muscular and uncompromising. It compels you to abandon your vices and forces you to reflect upon the lack of progress you’ve made since you were last in its cold, harsh bosom.

Clocking in at a meaty 31 days, January is a dense, dark forest that you must push through, knowing that a branch is liable to ping back and stab you in the eyeball at any moment.

2. February

A true outlier in the month scene, diminutive February appears each year like a murderous clown with an underwhelming party trick. The mysterious ‘Leap Year’ gimmick only briefly distracts us from the brutal reality of February’s tiny, weathered face, whilst creating a small group of outcasts forced to live much of their lives as Adult Children.

3. March

A largely pointless month, March grew like a moist fungus to fill the gap between despair and hope, and today clocks in at a healthy 31 days.

March shuffles into the year like a sympathetic middle manager, apologising for the behaviour of its predecessors and promising better times ahead. It promises you the start of Spring and the joy of Easter, but only occasionally delivers these things. This flakiness makes it generally unpopular.

4. April

Like a dashing Norwegian TV host, April emerges rosy-cheeked from the side-line before March has even gathered its things, whipping up the crowd and cupping its ear to hear our cheers.

You want crisp sunny afternoons? April’s got it. You want baby lambs frolicking in fields? April’s got it. You want MOTHER….FUCKING…..EASTER?! April’s got it (sometimes).

a lamb with transparent background

5. May

A largely unremarkable filler month, the uncertainly that surrounds May is a direct consequence of its name’s use as a modal verb, leading us to question its purpose and nature more than any other month.

Multiple bank holidays are thrown at us in a desperate bid for popularity, but May’s widespread appeal has been on the decline since Pagan times and it would be no surprise to see it phased out over the coming years.  In the west, it signals the end of Spring and the death of the lambs.

6. June

The monthly equivalent of a day-old croissant, June was once a headline act but has since fallen back to become the reliable hype-man for Summer Club.

June is there for you. June stands behind you muttering “yeah, bitch” when you’re having an argument in Tesco. June looks after your kids whilst you’re having your annual crack-binge. June knows you won’t remember any of the time you spent time together, but it doesn’t mind.

7. July

One of the most popular months on the calendar, July made its name as part of a dream-pop quartet in the mid-90s before finding its place in the heart of Summer Club. Coming in at a frankly decadent 31 days of long, carefree evenings and 10-night all-inclusive holidays on the Costa Brava where it’s actually a little too hot for your liking, July is textbook example of how a month should operate.

July should not be trusted with anything important.

8. August

August wants to fight you. August is getting up in your face, then kissing you on the lips. It’s intimidating, but in a good way. There’s nothing better than August. August knows that. August knows you know that. August knows you know that it knows that you know that. It doesn’t matter, August is going to eat you like a grape.

9. September

Like a friend of your parents who you suspect might be partial to a sex-party, September arrives just in time for those final, vulnerable moments of Summer Club. September pours you a glass of rosé and puts Best of Ambient 2010 in the CD player. September knows a guy who sells jazz cigarettes.

Days pass, 30 of them, each a little worse than the one before, and soon you find yourself in the lawless wasteland of Autumn. September has left. It didn’t say goodbye. Some of your cutlery is missing.

10. October

One of the great mysteries of the western calendar is the shapeless, foggy mass known as October. Although seemingly without purpose or any discernible features, October is now widely accepted as a month due to its 31-day duration.

11. November

Once upon a time, there was only November. November was the template for all other months to follow; 30 days, single season, -ber ending; and little has changed in the 65 years since the inception of the western calendar.

November stares silently at the horizon like a Cornish sea captain scarred by an incident of which it will not speak. It wants nothing from you. It gives you nothing.

12. December

December arrives with much fanfare, stepping out of its limousine like an ageing Latin diva. The world swoons.

December will put on a disorientating Coca-Cola-inspired party extravaganza, as it has done since Jesus times, but not before handing you a list of seemingly impossible rider demands and making you watch the 3-hour romantic sci-fi epic it made with Tom Selleck in 1985. It pauses the VHS after each scene to tell you a soul-crushingly dull backstage “secret” and ask you for your “honest” feedback on its performance. You say that you like it, but inside you are lying on your death-bed, ready for the darkness to wash over you.


That’s it. It’s over. That’s all 12 months.

Stay tuned for more profiles as soon as new months are released.

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