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Am I part of the whiniest generation in history?

I WAS born in 1994, at the tail end of the shoegaze era. Am I especially unfortunate to be part of the whiniest generation in history? 

I missed out on student grants. I missed out on cheap house prices. I missed out on lead poisoning from exhausts, corporal punishment in schools and mass unemployment as well, but I’m not interested in those because they didn’t happen to me.

Meanwhile my generation has suffered endless inequitable treatment. We missed Britpop, due to being children, so the first record I bought was Big Brovaz’s Nu Flow. You see how we’re cursed?

We couldn’t go to university. I mean loads of us could and did, unlike all those boomers who worked down the pit and got their pet hawks killed for daring to dream, but it wasn’t free and that’s a terrible injustice.

Our chances of buying an Instagrammable property in Notting Hill are basically zero, unlike in the 60s where you could rent a subdivided slum and get dogs set on you if you didn’t pay on time or they evicted you regardless.

And we’ve had the terrible misfortune of the internet meaning we get bullied on social media, instead of in real life, and we have non-stop 24-7 internet filth traumatising us instead of having to get what erotic charge we could from shop mannequins.

Finally, there’s pensions. Anyone older than us has an incredible pension, financed by most men dying of massive smoking-induced heart attacks aged 64 after which their wives moved in with their children to sit in the corner frowning for 20 incontinent years.

Yes, we truly are the unluckiest, and consequently the whiniest, generation in history. Though I bet another generation will come along and claim to be even whinier. It’s so unfair.

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How to consistently be the worst at Eurovision: a UK guide

WANT to barely scrape last place at Eurovision year after year with entries that genuinely make you ashamed? Learn from the country that has perfected the art:

Choose an abysmal song

The key to winning Eurovision is, surprisingly, entering a song that is fun to listen to. Difficult because music is subjective, but the United Kingdom has cracked the opposite formula: tunes that, year after year, are universally despised. And for a continent as diverse and fractured as Europe, bringing it together via hate is something to be proud of.

Refuse to be sexy

Europe is notorious for its debauched love of sex and tits and wrapping them in Bacofoil. Don’t pander to it. Impressing the judges with a buxom singer wearing f**k all but glitter would score points, but where’s the integrity? Scoring nul points may be embarrassing today, but all the best artists are unappreciated in their own lifetimes. Well, some of them.

Be a geopolitical pariah

As much as they claim otherwise, European countries vote according to historical grudges. Look at Ireland: never invaded anywhere and has won a record seven times. To come last, fight wars against the whole continent over 800 years and be ancient enemies with your nearest neighbour. Israel is the exception that proves this rule.

Never learn from your mistakes

After years of coming dead last, it might be tempting to switch up by entering a listenable song. It’s vital that you resist this temptation and stay on the right track. Persistence is key, and now Europe’s become accustomed to your terrible music and unlikable singers you cannot deprive them of a cherished Eurovision tradition.

Enter an even worse song

At Eurovision nothing makes sense, so it’s likely the continent will develop a deranged, Stockholm syndrome-like affection for your crapness. So innovate and plumb new depths of awfulness in order to come last year after year. Next year? Tommy Robinson singing football chants without a microphone while not knowing the words. Look forward to that.

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