Ironic really, that I chose to see Heima nowhere near my real actual home

What kind of twittering moron throws himself on the mercies of the New Year's Day public transport system to see a film in a different county that he could bloody well see up the road from his house?

Still, I don't regret trekking for hours from Manchester to Bradford to see Sigur Ros' masterpiece Heima.

This smouldering film, infused with the ashen Icelandic landscape that no doubt inspired Richard Long, is slow moving, contemplative and beautiful. As the film glides to a close, you think you've seen a "nice" documentary. Then they let rip with Popplagið in all its boldness and intensity. It will leave your ears ringing.

It's definitely one for the big screen. If you fancy schmoozing over to the Cornerhouse in Manchester later this month to see Heima (and you're not a random internet stalker hell bent on stealing my trousers), then give me a shout.

My trip to Bradford had a brace of nice side effects. I sat near a man who, if he wasn't the real thing, was an accomplished Pete Doherty impressionist. Then out of the blue, I flirted outrageously with the bloke who drove my railway replacement coach:

EXT. BUS STOP - LATE EVENING

DRIVER stands in the doorway of his stationery coach chatting and laughing with a colleague

ME: Are you East Didsbury?

DRIVER: No, I'm a driver.

ME: Well, you look like East Didsbury. You know... classy.

DRIVER remains overly formal for the rest of the journey, although he still let me on without a ticket...

DEEPER FRIED FAT: KNOBS COCKS

Knobs, cocks and boils: my review of the year

>Cheese of 2006

Wensleydale, as it is every year.

> The most wonderful public figure of 2006

This is a difficult choice; 'wonderful' is not a word I would use to describe most celebrities. Lily Allen was both 'street' and pedestrian, while Chantelle and Pete Doherty were either OMG like sooo cool or complete morons, depending on your take.

We were forced to think about Chris Tarrant and Mark Oaten's sex lives (not together, although they would make a delightful couple). Michael Richards and Mel Gibson destroyed our faith in Seinfeld and Braveheart respectively.

Tony Blair and David Cameron annoy me so much, I want to gnaw the back of my knees off. Paris Hilton, Catherine Tate and The Feeling are also boils on the bottom of life I want to lance with the needle of justice.

In fact, the only public figure that didn't want to make me grate my eyeballs and syringe them back up my nose was Mr Lordi (pictured), whose band stormed to a well-deserved Eurovision success with this glorious number.

>Knob of 2006

I think butter just about edges the victory here, over the bed and door variety.

> Film of 2006

Bond took a menacing turn for the better, but I still can't take those films seriously. I missed any films to do this year's overriding theme of animals and planes, so I lost out on United 93, Snakes On A Plane and any one of the million films about penguins. The Departed, Superman Returns and Children Of Men were pleasant surprises, and A Cock And Bull Story made me giggle lemonade out of my nose, if only for Stephen Fry's impressive "cock!"

My favourite film of the year came right at the beginning, as the turkey and stuffing was still swilling round my insides. From the opening bomb explosion, Munich was unsettling and brutish and shied away from moralising, and thankfully avoided the usual saccherine Spielberg fare.

>Near death experience of 2006

Sankeys Soap in the summer. Yeesh. At least, it felt like near death. I'll tell you over a beer some time.

>Post of 2006

Yes, from my own blog. I really am that vain.

Autechre sell tinny frog-puke enducing cancer machines always seems to come up on Google searches and provoked an anonymous commenter to call my post "a load of sniffle", although the whole post was cheapened by my use of a Dilbert cartoon. My Misadventures In Sound series chronicled my DJing on Refresh FM last Easter, although I never quite finished it. Filter: Beckett & Taylor, Luke Abbott & 000 provoked a respectful mention on a record company website. A little less respectful was It's 3.30am and this is what I think of Da Vinci, which was written in a fury after wasting good sleep over an appalling film. Five things I don't want you to know about me was similarly heartfelt.

I have to plump for the Fatbelt series as my favourite, in particular Fatbelt: notch 3 which saw a whole nation take Saffron the goat to its heart. Well, about three people anyway. My favourite phrase of the year was from that post: "Friday waltzes in to the room like it owns the place." I like that, I must use that again.

Is that smug enough for you?

>Smug git of 2006

Yes, okay, I'll go away now.