Thoughts Before Christmas

ITEM: Well, I’m back, and I hope you are all pleased to see me. I’ve been very busy, hence the lack of blogging, and I also haven’t been replying to many of my emails, so if you were expecting to hear from me and haven’t that will be the reason why.

On the other hand, if you’re expecting to hear from me and don’t before Twelfth Night, then I’m probably snubbing you. Deal with it.

ITEM: So, my Christmas card from The Imaginary Girlfriend arrived and inside she’d written ‘Are you ready for the second book yet?’, thus it appears she is seriously expecting me to read Fifty Shades of Gray, which she gave me for my birthday.

I’ve given it a brief scan and it all seems rather coy for a book that so much fuss is being made about. When they have sex it’s often characterised as ‘he put himself inside her’, which to me conjures up visions of a man folding himself up and growing ever smaller until he can be inserted in an orifice. That’s probably a flashback to reading about Gulliver’s adventures in Brobdingnag.

ITEM: The Corrs were on the stereo a while back. Andrea wants to know what she can do to make me love her.

I don’t know as I’d love her exactly, but I’d be extremely grateful if she’d introduce me to the sister who plays the violin.

ITEM: A while ago I jokingly told a friend that all I needed to be happy at Christmas was Baileys, Thorntons and a hooker.

Last time we met she gave me a huge bottle of Baileys and last Tuesday a courier delivered a crate of Thorntons. I’m now not answering the door until we’re safely into the New Year.

I know how my friend’s mind works, and the fact that I said ‘a hooker’ rather than ‘an atractive hooker’ could be fatal. It’s like one of those demonic contracts that are so popular in horror fiction – if you don’t get the wording right, then you’re screwed (which may be entirely the wrong analogy to use, but I’m sure you know what I’m getting at).

ITEM: Apparently the latest fun wheeze to be floated in the conceptually bankrupt upper echelons of the Conservative Party is smart cards to which claimants’ benefits can be credited and which will restrict what they can spend the money on. Iain Duncan-Smug has got it into his head that a substantial number of claimants are spending their benefit on crack cocaine.

Personally, I reckon anyone who can fund a drug habit on benefit should be put in charge of the economy, as they obviously know more about managing a budget and stretching limited resources than the clueless posh boy in #11.

ITEM: I finally got round to watching the extras on the DVD of One Eyed Monster, including a couple of interviews with (porn) star Ron Jeremy. Apparently Ron is a real funny guy and always cracking them up on the set of adult shoots, but the only two examples he could give of his humour were sight gags playing on the ginormous size of his co-star’s lady parts.

Porn star humour. Not.

ITEM: I took my last look at the sea of 2012 this week, though it wasn’t much of a look. After checking out the cheap DVDs and chocolates, then buying curry drenched chips on Yarmouth market, I did a quick sprint down to the front and stared across the windswept beach at the dirty grey water in the distance.

That’ll have to tide me over until next year.

ITEM: Christmas is nearly here. I’ve wrapped all the presents and posted all the cards, except to the friend who moved and didn’t give me her new address – I can take a hint. As usual I’ll be spending most of the day round my sister’s and catching up with what’s been happening on the Square and in the Street over the last twelve months – it’s a small price to pay for a decent meal.

Over the twelve days of Christmas I thought I might post some music videos here, performances by bands that I saw back in my concert going days, with a few personal reminiscences. Think of it as low maintenance blogging.

For the nonce, thanks to everyone who’s been reading this blog over the past year and paying attention to me prattling on – you both deserve all the best that life can offer by way of compensation.

I wish you well for Christmas and the New Year, and hope that you get everything you want and want everything that you get.

Unless you’re Tories of course, in which case I hope you get socks, smellies, books by Jamie Oliver and Russell Brand, and one of those ridiculous, ill-fitting jumpers with reindeers on.

And it’s more than you deserve.

To everyone else, Merry Christmas.