C is for Christmas

For me it starts once I have seen the coke advert…

I was unsure as to whether posting on the matter of Christmas was a little premature, but I saw the Coco-Cola advert last night so for me that is the traditional beginning of Christmas and a green light to write about it.

Actually, I should confess that our family Christmas traditions started week before last.  Each Sunday in the run up to Christmas we watch one of the Harry Potter films, and by the time they’re all done the big day is upon us.  I just think there’s something about the films that screams Christmas plus it gives us a chance to curl up in front of the fire on a gloomy English Sunday afternoon and spend time together with the kids who, as they get older, are often keen to be anywhere else.

While I am at it I have another confession.  On Sunday we had our first family Christmas get together.  Now I know it is only mid November but my Dad works in Kazakhstan much of the year and this was the last chance we had to get together before he goes away until the new year so we had lunch (not a festive one as the Christmas menu was not yet out) and exchanged gifts.  This has become something of a tradition in recent years, and we now seldom meet over the Christmas period.

Funny you know, but I had intended for this to be something of a rant about the things I don’t like about Christmas – and there are many, but over recent years I have learned to enjoy it more than I ever did, and I think perhaps it is because as a family we are making our own traditions and not simply slotting in with other peoples.

Yes we see our families and friends, but when it works for us instead of it feeling like an obligation.  It’s selfish perhaps, but sometimes it is important to consider what you need first because just pleasing others at your own expense isn’t always a good thing, as selfless as it might seem.

Do you have any traditions that you’re excited about?

Anyway, see you tomorrow for ‘D is for Duran Duran’

B is for Balls

This is serious stuff, and not wholly unpleasant…

A few weeks ago I went to Leeds to see this chap who quite tenderly caressed my testicles and probed my bottom.

Okay, now that I have your attention I will clarify that it was part of a health assessment and the chap was most qualified to do so given the certificate on the wall.  He also had a white coat and a stethoscope, so that pretty much qualifies him to do what the dickens he fancies to my tender parts.

I would say that the certificate  didn’t specifically mention those activities, that would just be weird, but it all  looked particularly official so I just assumed it covered it.

My point is, and it is a serious one, that many men neglect these things and end up dead.

There are some pretty harrowing figures out there on the matter of men’s health.  Did you know that 1 in 8 men in the UK will get prostate cancer in their lives?  It is the most common cancer in men in the UK, and yet so many of us do nothing about it in terms of prevention.

What’s the point you ask?  My point is don’t neglect your health gents. You might actually find that you enjoy it, you never know.

Head over to www.prostatecanceruk.org if you want more information.

 

Tomorrow: C is for Christmas

A is for arseholes

Welcome my alphabet of thoughts.

The world is full of them, we all know that. Pompous, annoying and wholly unpleasant individuals who, if you could get away with it or were rather good at fighting, you would happily punch in their man-vagina. Turn around, I bet there is one near you right now.

He’s probably a loud mouth breather or perhaps he’s cooking fish in the office microwave whilst talking loudly about something pointless. I don’t know you or the circles you move in so you may even be in proximity to someone who’s rather fond of molesting prospective actors, some drunk and others not. You might just move in lofty circles indeed and you can see a vagina grabbing orange faced buffoon or a man of god senate elect who’s rather fond of fourteen year olds from where you’re sitting.

The point is they are everywhere.

I say him, it could well be a her, but my experience is that arseholes tend to be primarily male.

Let me give you an example. On the way into work this morning there was a spandex clad one on a bicycle who insisted on weaving dangerously between traffic causing the impatient driver arseholes in their cars to beep, swerve and drive dangerously to pass him almost wiping out one of those dog walking types who probably lets their dog shit everywhere for my kids to step in and drag it into my car making it smell like the bottom of a rottweiler. And exhale…

It really was a veritable cornucopia of arseholes. Unless there is a better collective noun for them. What about ‘a clench’ or perhaps ‘a puckering’.

Anyway, onto my rather laboured point. The world is full of them, in fact we have a glut, so try not to be one today, and I will too.

Tomorrow: B is for balls