I was intending to the do same (a list, not eat a tarp), but when I sat down to consider my own list I drew a blank (weird turn of phrase: surely 'drawing a blank' is choosing not to draw on a blank sheet of paper?).
There are games this year that I've enjoyed more than others of course - some of them revealed their fruity charms over time, and entertained me in unexpected ways - but when it came to games that I loved, I struggled to put any of this year's games on a par with games that I've really loved from previous years.
What's more, I started writing a 'Which Games Machine Should I Get?' guide, but couldn't muster enough enthusiasm to pen a bunch of waffle which concluded: it doesn't matter, because the Xbox One, PS4, the Wii U... they're all the same, unless you desperately want to play Bloodborne, Halo 5, or Mario Maker.
In short: I think 2015 has been one of the most boring years for gaming in living memory. Yeah, I know - it's yet another tirade of optimism, hope and positivity!
It pains my sacrum to write off this year, as I think we're spoiled in many ways.
Pick almost any game from the last 12 months, and slide it up against the games of 10, 15, 20 years ago and we're living in charmed times. Games are bigger, better looking, more polished, and generally more accessible than they've ever been. What's more, there's greater choice than ever.
If you don't like Rise of the Tomb Raider, there's always 80 Days. If you don't want to play The Witcher 3 you could always pick up Splatoon. If you have no time for Rainbow Six Siege then you can console yourself with The Talos Principle or Bloodborne.
But somehow I'm left feeling so very, very bored.
That might be unavoidable in some respects - I've been playing games for more than 30 years, writing about them for 23 (barring a few recent years off), and I know I'm harder to please than I was. I do feel guilty that I'm unable to get more excited about the hard work, the blood, the sweat, and other bodily fluids that have pumped into today's games.
But I can't. I can't manufacture it, or pretend. I feel what I feel. And what I feel when I play most of today's games - particularly the big ones - is detachment and tedium. The last time I really, really loved a game was Assassin's Creed Black Flag. So, y'know, cheers UbiSoft for continuing to propel that franchise backwards into ever more predictable corners.
There's a terrible complacency settling in with game design. It seems to happen every decade or so that everyone wants to staple their colours to the latest fad.
The games industry always chases trends - be it Pong clones, platform games, Doom clones, Street Fighter II clones, or whatever - and right now everybody seems to be trying to become the next big open world hit.
Unfortunately, all these games are set in achingly similar locales, and the more of them there are the less room there is for one of them to break out. It's innovation which drives this industry, and currently everyone is just wandering around in circles, looking over their shoulders to check they're doing it right.
Take Just Cause 3. Admittedly, they've tried to give it a distinct aesthetic of its own - specifically a Mediterranean one, with its flamenco guitar, fields of sunflowers, and whitewashed buildings - but it's still set on an island with pockets of civilisation surrounded by mountains, and bodies of water. Liberate settlements, take over bases, raises flags, find the things, blow up the things, do the things.
You know: like we've seen in all the Far Cry games, The Witcher 3, Grand Theft Auto V, Rise of the Tomb Raider, and too many more to list. Even The Phantom Pain - with all its idiosyncrasies - somehow became increasingly formulaic and dull the more I played it.
The structure of all these games is virtually identical - story missions broken up with optional side missions, and hidden boxes to tick off. I'm quite honestly at the limit of how many more times I can go through it. It's getting like water torture.
I get that I'm not the average gamer. I'm playing more games than I ordinarily would - buying them from our Digi Patreon fund - for the purposes of review (the size of these games presenting its own challenge in playing them enough to be able to give a reasonable judgement).
Nevertheless, I'm still not sure what I'd find to be excited about.
I'm desperate to be entertained, but I've seen all the tricks before. The court jester capers and frolics at my feet, and all I can muster is the strength to flick chicken bones at him.
I know. I whinge a lot. So I'll try and leave this article on an optimistic note: amid the ennui of 2015 I've experienced several of my favourite gaming moments ever.
Oddly, the games I've enjoyed the most this year have been on my phone, and as basic as you can get. I've been utterly hooked on a very, very simple on-screen basketball game called Ball King, and recently on an equally simple 3D endless runner thing called Twist.
Fallout 4 is a game I like despite it doing its best to make the experience as frustrating as possible. Yet within that frustration I've had some truly exceptional gaming moments - the sort that have left me breathless, where I've come out the other end, had to put down the joypad, and just pace around the room with a grin on my face.
Similarly, Star Wars Battlefront is deeply flawed - albeit through its lack of lasting value than anything else - but there have been a couple of times playing the Supremacy mode where I've laughed aloud at the madness of it.
One particular battle, which lasted for much of the length of the entire game, saw the entirety of my Rebel allies and I defending a bunker, while being attacked by what must've been the entirety of our Imperial opposition. The chaos of it was hysterical, but everything about it was why I love games.
So, those moments are there. There's gold amid the grey. And I hope that this particular bandwagon has finally reached the peak of Mount Me-Too. Let it stay there.
There are other mountains to climb, and other views to absorb in 2016.