We've been showing the same Hootenanny for 17 years and you haven't noticed, BBC confirms

THE BBC has repeated the 2006 Jools Holland’s Hootenanny every New Year’s Eve since and nobody has noticed, it has emerged.

Due to being too drunk, distracted or apathetic, no viewers have yet realised that Holland is introducing Lilly Allen performing her brand new song LDN for the 17th year in a row.

A BBC spokesperson said: “The Hootenanny isn’t something anybody genuinely watches. It’s just the soundtrack to suffering.

“Whether you’re in alone grimly waiting out the year, parents counting the minutes until they tuck exhaustion-crazed children to bed, couples pretending this is fine or in the stupor of middle age, nobody pays it a moment’s attention.

“You’d think Amy Winehouse being on it would be a dead giveaway, given she is long-deceased, but The Kooks are on and if anything that’s more jarring. Not one letter to Ofcom.

“If you’re watching the Hootenanny your life has swerved into a ditch. The last thing you’re focusing on is this shit.

“It’s saved hundreds of thousands, so it’s win-win for everyone. Except for Jools. He spends the night on an empty soundstage playing boogie-woogie piano and howling.”

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Child-free couple have never felt so smug about their life choices

A CHILD-FREE have had their life choices resoundingly validated after five days with their relatives’ children.

Jack Browne and Sophie Rodriguez have spent the entire Christmas period surrounded by their nieces, nephews and their friends’ chidren before returning home to luxuriate in the smugness of their big, empty adult house.

Sophie said: “The sense of self-satisfaction is near-orgasmic. Really makes you appreciate the quiet, and the expensive white sofa.

“Watching siblings you used to be able to talk struggling to hold a coherent thought as two six-year-olds run past screaming. Seeing their shattered faces. Hearing that five hours sleep is ‘a good night’. Then coming home like we’ve found a back door out of hell.

“I think it was when I was being repeatedly shot with a Nerf gun, which f**king hurts, and my niece was singing Let It Go at high volume but with minimal adherence to the tune, when my dad asked me if I’d changed my mind about children.

“Credit to me, I didn’t piss myself laughing. Instead I glanced into the kitchen where the dog was vomiting Quality Street it had been force-fed by a toddler, out to the garden where the husk that was once my sister endlessly pushed a swing, and said ‘it’s not for me’.”

Browne agreed: “Everyone said ‘you’re so great with the kids’. That is entirely because I do it once a year. The rest of the year I am where kids are not.”