Happy New Year

Short and to the point today - I feel the way Woody looks.

Happy New Year to all you strange people out there on the worldwide interweb. May your hangovers be light throughout the year!

Merry Christmas!

As I am likely to spend the next few days in a stupor caused by excessive amounts of meat, chocolate, trifle, Christmas pudding, rubbish television and alcohol, I'd like to take this opportunity to wish all of you a very happy Christmas.

Groanin' Jock's Guide To Christmas

Further to my recent post calling on the government (whether in Britain or Scotland) to make the whole of December a holiday (I still haven't heard from Westminster or Holyrood - must be busy at Christmas parties), I am now proposing some broadcasting rules.

There should be no soap operas on television on Christmas Day. Who really wants to wallow in misery on Albert Square or Coronation Street on the biggest holiday of the year?

Christmas Day's television should be devoted entirely to blockbuster films, comedies, the Queen's speech and re-runs of festive Top Of The Pops.

Sadly, I think this appeal will fall on deaf ears, and that Mrs Wife and Mither will subject me to an afternoon with the soaps on Christmas Day.

Feeling festive?

I can scarcely believe that it is less than a fortnight until Christmas.

As I've grown older, all of the magical ritual associated with Christmas has been stripped away.

Who could forget the buillding excitement we experienced as children as the run-up to Christmas began? Adverts extolling the merits of the latest toys and games, kids TV programmes running Christmas specials and Slade and Wizzard blaring from every radio.

Probably the biggest factor was spending eight hours a day in school with other children, all whipping each other into a frenzy.

Even the little details, like sending Christmas cards, buying Advent calendars and putting up the tree seemed so exciting when we were young.

Now, they are just extra chores to tackle at the end of a long working day. Spending 40 hours a week in an office is no great way to build excitment for Christmas.

So, I am now proposing that December be declared a holiday. I realise that there may be impracticalities to this, but screw it, let the politicians figure out the fine details.

Just give me my month off.

Ginger at Christmas time

This is the greatest Irn Bru advert EVER!!! I love it - especially as I have always hated The Snowman with little gay Aled Jones warbling away. Listen carefully to the lyrics on this version - they're great!

The 2006 Jock Awards

It's that time of year when every magazine, TV show, cable channel and blog reveals its top performers of the year.

So, ladies, gentlemen and those of you who are neither, I welcome you to the Jocks (like the Oscars, only on a slightly lower budget.)

The Stone Roses award for Album of The Year: (Nominees: Muse - Black Holes and Revelations; Arctic Monkeys - Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not; Bob Dylan - Modern Times; Dirty Pretty Things - Waterloo To Anywhere; Driveblind - Driveblind; Wolfmother - Wolfmother)
The first gong at this year's award, and one of the most highly-contested, goes to Arctic Monkeys. After the hype and all the publicity, when all the dust has settled, the Sheffield band's debut stands as a great record of our times. Punky, spunky and lyrically brilliant, this year's most eagerly-awaited album was also its best.

The Strawberry Fields Forever award for Single of The Year: (Nominees: Kasabian - Empire; Arctic Monkeys - I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor; Muse - Knights of Cydonia; The Fratellis - Chelsea Dagger; Amy Winehouse - Rehab; Gnarls Barkley - Crazy)
Living in an alternative universe where there is life on Mars and everything is painted in dayglo technicolor, Muse are the anti-Arctic Monkeys. Ridiculously over-the-top, Knights of Cydonia has continent-sized riffs and the tempo of a runaway juggernaut. The track that moved them into the stadium rock bracket.

The Rolling Stones award for Live Act of The Year: (Nominees: Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Who, Muse, Arctic Monkeys, The Cooper Temple Clause)
Picking up their second award, Muse beat off stiff competition to win the live act award. Groanin' Jock was fortunate to see the band at Meadowbank Stadium in Edinburgh in August, where they opened with Knights of Cydonia and never looked back. Very few three-piece bands could pull off a stdium gig - for Muse, it's just a day at the office.

The Goodfellas Award for Movie of the Year: This award has been declared null and void - the judging panel (AKA Groanin' Jock and Mrs Wife) lives too far from the cinema to be able to rule with any authority.

The Knight Rider award for TV Programme of The Year: (Nominees: Lost, Desperate Housewives, Dragons' Den, Hogan Knows Best)
An insane second series and fast-developing third series continues to keep Lost's viewers guessing. Yeah, it may be the biggest shaggy dog story ever told and mean absolutely nothing. Who cares - it's still great TV.

The Marilyn Monroe award for Babe of The Year: (Nominees: Mrs Wife, Evangeline Lily, Katie Holmes, Beyonce, Cameron Diaz, Kate Moss)
In the year that Groanin' Jock tied the knot, there could only be one winner of this award - Mrs Wife. Gorgeous in every way imaginable (she's not watching me write this, honest). Evangeline Lily, AKA Kate 'Freckles' Austin from Lost, is a distant second.

The Jet Set Willy Award for Computer Game of The Year: (Nominee: Football Manager 2007)
This is almost the only game I have played this year. Not so much a computer game (or pretty database) as a way of life. Once you start playing Football Manager 2007, you just can't stop.

The Godfather III award for Biggest Disappointment of The Year: (Nominees: Kasabian - Empire; Primal Scream - Riot City Blues; Razorlight - Razorlight)
Three bands attempting to follow superb albums, and none of them truly cutting the mustard. The biggest disappointment of the three is probably Primal Scream's pastiche of a rock'n'roll record, which came on the back of an unholy trinity of electro-punk noise classics. Most worrying of all, the band think it's great.

The Screamadelica award for Scottish Album of The Year: (Nominees: The Fratellis - Costello Music; Driveblind - Driveblind)
In a one-on-one stand-off, the boys from Aberdeen triumph over the Weegie lads. Drivelind's debut may have been recorded in LA and owe a big debt to classic American rock, but it was conceived in Scotland and recorded by the most exciting Scottish band in a long time.

Hail to the geek

Praise be to the uber-geeks who invented the worldwide interweb. Without them I would be far less happy than I am at the moment.

The reason for my happiness? I have just completed my Christmas shopping from the comfort of my office chair.

I know that I moaned about people starting Christmas too early in this previous post, and that I demanded no-one mention the C-word until December 1.

But Mrs Wife has been driving herself, and as a result me, into a frenzy by demanding that we buy everyone's presents and write the cards so that we don't have to do it nearer the time.

So, leaving the purchasing of most of the gifts to the little lady, I have finished it off with just a click of my mouse and an assault on my credit card.

It must be the first stirrings of middle age - having my Christmas shopping completed by the end of November. If only other areas of my life were so organised....

Christmas is coming

As a kid, I loved Christmas. Everything about it - the tree, the decorations, the holiday, the food and, of course, the presents.

As I've grown up, I've realised that you need to start saving VERY early if you're going to avoid seriously damaging your credit card and found the days running up to Christmas aren't a holiday, but hectic days at work on the coldest, darkest days of the year.

But Christmas day itself is still a good day to relax, eat too much and watch loads of television.

What really annoys me about Christmas nowadays though is that it seems to start in August.

Mrs Wife and I were in Glasgow at the weekend, and every shop was going into Christmas advertising meltdown, with selection boxes in Woolworths sitting beside the Hallowe'en sweets and the bookshops recommending festive stocking fillers for your mum, dad, aunties, brothers and neighbours' dog.

I am proposing that governments across the world unite and instigate a blanket ban on Christmas at any point prior to December 1st. No mention of 'the C word' is to be made until this date. How can you even begin to discuss Christmas when Hallowe'en, Guy Fawkes Day and St Andrew's Day are all still to come?

Aside from the crass and opportunistic retailers hoping to snatch your money, surely no-one would object to delaying Christmas until December? Kids can fill their days quite happily without having Christmas to think about four months in advance.

In fact, kids will whip themselves into a frenzy in the DAYS leading up to Christmas, they don't need additional weeks of making their parents' lives a misery, demanding the latest toys and video games.

I realise that by writing this very post, I am contravening my own law. So, as of THIS VERY SECOND, I don't want to hear anything about Christmas until December 1st at the very earliest.

Bah, Humbug.

Scare me, please

Well, that's Hallowe'en been and gone again.

We only had seven kids come to our door during the evening, which is just as well, as we were criminally under-prepared. As per usual, Mrs Wife and I neglected to buy any sweets beforehand, and the local store (a supermarket in ambition only) was sold out by the afternoon. So we picked up a couple of bags from elsewhere, which was thankfully enough to see us through.

But there were two disturbing factors I noted:

1) A poor standard of performance from the kids on the doorstep. One little girl of around six attempted Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, and couldn't remember the words. I'm sorry, but how can you forget that? It's not a very difficult song.

2) Kids dressed as fairies and cowboys. Hallowe'en costumes should be ghosts, ghouls, vampires, mummies and other assorted scary creatures. Nothing else is acceptable.

I didn't argue with the kids though, and happily handed over the sweeties. Still, standards are slipping.