New Year’s Eve has always been a night of glittering parties, fizzy drinks, and resolutions that won’t last the week. But not for our dear friend, Dwight Warner. For Dwight, it’s an opportunity to create a patchwork of bizarre and oddly charming traditions, designed to confuse fate, amuse his friends, and occasionally involve the neighbours’ cat (no, it isn’t a satanic ritual).
Here’s a chronological look at how Dwight’s New Year’s Eve celebrations evolved from a quiet night in to the most peculiar party on the calendar.
8:45 PM: The Annual Queue Simulation
In Dwight’s world, queuing is an art form, and no New Year’s Eve is complete without paying homage to this quintessentially British pastime. It started one year as a joke—Dwight lined up in his own living room, declaring he was “practising for the January sales.”
Now, it’s a full-fledged ritual. At 8:45 PM sharp, Dwight forms a queue and encourages his guests to join. The queue doesn’t necessarily lead anywhere—sometimes to the cheese board, sometimes to nowhere at all—but that’s part of the fun. Guests are invited to critique each other’s queuing etiquette, and anyone who skips ahead is met with mock outrage.
“It’s not about the destination,” Dwight insists. “It’s about the joy of waiting politely for something that might not even exist.”
10:15 PM: Wish the Neighbours’ Cat a Happy New Year
This tradition began entirely by accident. One foggy New Year’s Eve, Dwight spotted a cat perched on the garden wall and decided it deserved to be part of the festivities. Since then, every year at 10:15 PM, Dwight takes a moment to call out to any neighbourhood cats lurking in the vicinity.
“Happy New Year!” he shouts into the night, offering a gentle wave to any feline observers.
When a cat does appear, Dwight takes it as a sign of good fortune. If no cats show up, he doesn’t let it dampen his spirits—he simply attributes it to their busy social calendars. “They’ve probably got another wall to sit on,” he says with a shrug.
11:30 PM: The Mystery Box of Resolutions
The Mystery Box made its first appearance in 2012, when Dwight realised that standard resolutions—exercise more, eat better, stop ranting about queue jumpers—were far too predictable. So he created the box, a lovingly decorated shoebox filled with resolutions designed to spark laughter and confusion.
Guests pull a resolution at random, with past gems including:
- “Take up underwater basket weaving.”
- “Write a love letter to a tree.”
- “Train a pigeon to fetch your slippers.”
No one is required to keep their resolution, but Dwight insists they must share their plan for achieving it before the clock strikes midnight.
“The box isn’t about improvement,” Dwight explains. “It’s about possibility—and maybe a little bit of nonsense.”
11:59 PM: The Dandelion Clock Countdown
As the final seconds of the year tick away, Dwight refuses to rely on the ordinary. Instead, he times the countdown using the imaginary dandelion clock—a tradition born out of necessity one particularly foggy year when his watch was nowhere to be found.
Guests are invited to mime blowing dandelion seeds, imagining how long it would take to scatter them all to the wind. The room fills with exaggerated huffs and puffs as everyone counts down in their own chaotic way.
“If your dandelion runs out too soon,” Dwight says with a grin, “it just means you’re ahead of your time.”
12:15 AM: The Post-Midnight De-Clutter
Once the cheering and confetti (or cornflakes) have settled, Dwight dives into the final, and perhaps most peculiar, tradition of the night: the post-midnight de-clutter.
Dwight believes in starting the New Year with a fresh perspective, which, in his mind, requires rearranging the living room furniture. Guests are enlisted to move sofas, coffee tables, and lamps into new configurations, often resulting in hilariously impractical layouts.
One year, the couch ended up in the hallway. Another time, Dwight’s bookshelf was rotated 90 degrees and declared “artistic.” The tradition always ends in laughter and a collective vow to leave it like that until at least lunchtime on January 1st.
“Nothing says ‘New Year’ like a completely unnecessary furniture shuffle,” Dwight declares.
Embracing the Absurd
For Dwight, New Year’s Eve isn’t about glitzy parties or perfectly timed resolutions—it’s about embracing the absurd, finding joy in the unconventional, and sharing a laugh with friends (and occasionally, cats).
So, if you ever find yourself at Dwight’s New Year’s celebration, don’t expect champagne toasts and glamorous outfits. Instead, prepare to queue for no reason, pluck a ridiculous resolution from the Mystery Box, and end the night with a sofa inexplicably blocking the door.
And as Dwight himself would say, “What better way to confuse fate and start the year with a smile?”
A quantity of artistic licence may (or may not) have been used in the creation of the above article. We aren’t saying exactly how much…
James Henshaw is a brooding Geordie export who swapped the industrial grit of Newcastle for the peculiar calm of Lincolnshire—though he’s yet to fully trust the flatness. With a mind as sharp as a stiletto and a penchant for science-tinged musings, James blends the surreal with the everyday, crafting blogs that feel like the lovechild of a physics textbook and a fever dream.
Equally at home dissecting the absurdities of modern life as he is explaining quantum theory with alarming metaphors, James writes with the wit of someone who knows too much and the irreverence of someone who doesn’t care. His posts are infused with a dark humour that dares you to laugh at the strange, the inexplicable, and the occasionally terrifying truths of the universe—whether it’s the unnerving accuracy of Alexa or the existential menace of wasps.
A figure of mystery with a slightly unsettling edge, James is the sort of bloke who’d explain the meaning of life over a pint, but only after a dramatic pause long enough to make you question your own existence. His wit cuts deep, his insights are sharp, and his ability to make the surreal feel strangely plausible keeps readers coming back for more.
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