2018 has been pretty unremarkable, with the main topic area being the latest droll instalment of the Brexit shenanigans. Attempting to leave Europe is akin to splitting up with an irritating ex-girlfriend: it is only in the cold light of day that we forget her penchant for leaving the cap off the toothpaste, the heating on full blast in the summer, and hers and her mother’s acerbic tongue.

Most years, to offer a little respite from the usual news fare of misery and ineptitude, there are words that seep into the cultural psyche and become mainstays due to their adoption by the masses. Brexit is one such word. If someone had mentioned it in 2015, we would have thought we were speaking to a parking attendant with a speech impediment after he had greeted you at the Brentrance. Sadly, this year, we have slim linguistic pickings on which to mull over as we hope that 2019 proves to be a little more culturally endowed.

The Oxford ‘living’ dictionary has issued a shortlist of words of the year, although I’m unsure how the prizegiving ceremony will go as it’s difficult to present a crystal decanter to an inanimate object.

Firstly, we have ‘cakeism’, which derives from having your cake and eating it. First coined in 1538 by the Duke of Norfolk, the reworking is apparently widely used in the UK (despite my never having heard of it) and means ‘to enjoy or take advantage of two desirable but mutually exclusive alternatives at once’.

I have just been made aware that I am a ‘gammon’. A derogatory word used to describe middle-aged men whose facial expressions become flushed when expressing political opinion. For me, I go all gammon when trying to retrieve my phone from the sink after my daughter has tested whether a Samsung Galaxy can indeed float, or the feeling enjoyed when I have fox poo flick up onto my face as I attempt to prove I still have a little bit of teckers on my full suspension mountain bike. I don’t, and fox poo retains its number one most despised animal faeces ranking.

Psychotherapists have a lot to answer for, despite being able to give answers for everything. One of their go to phrases entered the public consciousness this year, having originated in 1938. ‘Gaslighting’ is the action of manipulating someone by psychological means into accepting a false depiction of reality as they doubt their own sanity. I have certainly suffered from this affliction in 2018, most notably when listening to Diane Abbott explaining her fiscal musings for the twenty thirteenth squazillion time.

An involuntary celibate, or ‘incel’, is a self-descriptive term used by members of online subcultures who consider themselves unable to attract women sexually and I must admit to ‘orbiting’ over the previous 12 months. It is the action of abruptly withdrawing from direct communication with a third party whilst continuing to monitor, and respond to, their activity on social media. Some people may call this mild stalking, but orbiting seems a little more palatable as long as the snooping is not coupled with further, more sinister, actions.

Finally, we have ‘techlash’ which has nothing to do with downing copious amounts as you bore your drinking buddy into submission whilst bemoaning the lack of usability with the new windows operating system. Doing anything tonight, love? ‘Yeah…I’m going out on the techlash’ is not a phrase that will become common parlance. It is in fact a widespread negative reaction to the growing power and influence of large technology companies who are seen by many to be harbouring addictive qualities amongst their users.

I believe I am getting too long in the tooth to attempt new language with my brethren. A few months ago, I attempted to interject a previous word of the year into conversation and was looked at as if I was a sandwich short. That word was ‘thoughtshower’ in place of ‘brainstorming’. When I explained what it meant, the question was asked as to why I didn’t just use brainstorming in the first place? I went off and thought showered my word usage and surmised they were correct.

Yes, I am a proud gammon who suffers numerous techlashes. That said, the Queen’s English remains a pleasure to behold, yet, the more we mess with it, the more linguistically incel we become if you get me as I try bear hard, fam?