By James Corden
Phew! 2008! What a year it's been! It will go down in history as the year that one very special man stepped up onto the world stage and reunited a fractured world through a message of hope; overcoming years of institutional prejudice to prove that if you really dream it, you can achieve it.
But enough about my best newcomer BAFTA; I'm certainly not here to talk about me. Because I'm just a normal bloke like you - a bloke that has won shedloads of awards and even got a snog off that Lily Allen.
This ordinary guy has a bit of a burden to live with - I'm a little bit overweight. And I'd like to think I've become something of an everyday icon to other ordinary Brits who carry a bit of extra timber - the little big guy who can still get into the Groucho, despite his ungainly girth.
The reason this chubby cockel is allowed to sit among the caviar of high society is simple - I'm funny, or so they tell me (I wouldn't dare presume, but thankfully BAFTA did).
People just don't get it at first - how could a fat guy possibly be funny? History is littered with chubby comics who tried and failed to make people laugh, from Oliver Hardy right through to John Candy, and I'm just chuffed that I'm the geezer who finally overcame this problem.
I think it's a bit too soon to talk about a Nobel Prize for Gavin and Stacey, but a boy can dream, and I reckon it would make a nice accompaniment to all those skinny athletes winning them medals in 2012.
I'm fat, I'm funny, I love the money. Love me.
Please.
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