Posted by: docdenbow | December 24, 2012

Tis The Night Before Christmas


I got to wondering why everyone, and I mean everyone, seems to be buying DVD’s or downloading films (either legally or illegally) especially at this time of year. Well I have come to the conclusion that it’s because there is sweet fanny adams on the TV. The main channels are fully booked with wall to wall pooh and I can only bet that quite a few of the “highlights” will be hackneyed programmes featuring “one trick pony” celebrities.

According to The Guardian these are the Christmas Day highlights –

Soccer AM
9am, Sky Sports 1

Room On The Broom
4.35pm, BBC1

Doctor Who
5.15pm, BBC1

Heston’s Fantastical Christmas
7.55pm, More4

Downton Abbey
8.45pm, ITV1

FILM: The Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship Of The Ring
(Peter Jackson, 2001)
5.40pm, Channel 4

FILM: The Incredibles
(Brad Bird, 2004)
8.55pm, BBC3

I am already reaching for the sick bag and scouring my cupboards for strong drink (even though I don’t drink anymore) that may induce a coma or at least where the simple flickering of a TV screen will send me into a torpor. Yet for me out of that Motley Crue of programmes that are supposed to create a Dr Feelgood factor, one particularly stands out. That programme being the joy of the mad Dr Frankenstein of the steaming pots and pans Heston’s Fantastical Christmas. Whenever I think of Heston the Monty Python sketch about chocolate immediately springs to mind.

Heston, it seems watched this sketch and didn’t realize it was “comedy.” No sirree, Heston took it to heart and knocked out this revolting repast – (by the way I find this to be so vile I cannot bring myself to watch it.)

However, there are the cool and trendy folks out there who appreciate Heston’s “brilliance. God alone knows why. It seems that he is the cooking equivalent of a “shock jock” and one day he will own up that he’s merely taking the piss. I think the shaved head, white coat and silly glasses were all suggested to him by someone in PR and let’s be fair they’ve done the boy proud as he is raking in lots of the old coinage.

By the way Heston baby, I won’t be watching – I prefer all of my food to be deep fried in lard, quickly frozen and then partially reheated in a faulty Tesco’s Value microwave. You’ve got nothing on me mate.

So what will I be up to on Christmas Day? Well, I could tell you the what I hope will happen, but this is what is going to happen –

7:00 am sound asleep
8:00 am wake
8:05 am go back to sleep for a bit
8:30 am wake again, head to bathroom for toilet duties and then head into the shower for an invigorating shower using Tesco own brand Tea Tree Oil shower gel.
8:55 am head downstairs where I shall stand in front of the microwave and say “Earl Grey hot” whilst I awaiting the boiling of the kettle. (Jean-Luc Picard I’m not and I don’t live aboard the Starship Enterprise.)
9:05 am am finally greeted by Mrs. Denbow with the loving welcome of “Glad to see you’re up. Put the cleaner round.”
9:15 am finishing using the Dyson and sit whilst drinking Yorkshire tea for hard water (reduced in Asda because Swansea is a soft water area)
9:16 am handover the numerous gifts I have purchased for Mrs Denbow.
10:45 am after opening her multitude of presents to the soundtrack of Now That’s What I Call Xmas Mrs Denbow hands over my presents.
10:46 am completed opening and inspected gifts, once again I lose out.
10:47 am hear the annual excuse “you’re so difficult to buy for.”
10:48 am annual Christmas row commences.
11:00 am row ends, once again I lose the argument due to “facts” dating back years thrown at me as to why I’m a complete and utter bastard.
11:15 am kids arrive with “significant others” all of whom side with Mrs Denbow when she tells of the row.
11:17 am make more tea and retire to freezing cold conservatory wondering why everybody hates me.
11:20 am remove Now That’s What I Call Xmas from CD player, replace with Nick Drake’s “Bryter Layter.”
11:23 am told to turn that “miserable shit” off and play Now That’s What I Call Xmas again.
11:25 am begin plotting the deaths of Noddy Holder, Roy Wood and Jona Lewie.
11:30 am kids wearing their winter woolies enter conservatory bearing gift, which turns out to be 2 litres of Nisa Dandelion and Burdock, give me a perfunctory hug and head back into the warm.
11:33 am asked if I wish to have a look at youngest daughter’s “significant others’” new car.
11:34 am look out of window at Bugatti Veyron and wonder why I am paying for Christmas Lunch in restaurant.
11:36 am asked if I wish to have a look at youngest daughter’s “significant others’” new car.
11:37 am look out of window at Aston Martin Vantage and begin to sob.
11:45 am regain composure.
11:46 am drink more tea and smoke a fag to settle nerves.
12:00 am leave house to go to restaurant for lunch.
12:15 pm arrive at restaurant car park.
12:16 pm begin difference of opinion about where to park VW Polo FSI (black, low mileage).
12:18 pm park where Mrs Denbow wants the car parked.
12:30 pm >> 2:00 pm largely uneventful lunch where I become more and more depressed as the conversation is jammed on the salaries of the “significant others.”
2:30 pm arrive back chez Denbow where the hateful Now That’s What I Call Xmas is replaced in the CD player by Boney M’s Christmas Album on shuffle/repeat mode.
2:35 pm think of taking dog for walk, but the rain is torrential and someone may want to accompany me.
2:40 pm wonder if I could feign sleep.
2:45 pm told by Mrs Denbow that “I could make a bloody effort.”
2:47 pm decide to try to “make an effort.”
2:48 pm turn on TV in preparation for Queen’s speech.
2:49 pm told to turn TV off as it’s rude because we have “guests”
2:50 pm Oh, please!
2:52 pm turfed out of conservatory so that dining table can be laid with Christmas Cake and sundry items.
2:54 pm heating in conservatory set to sauna to make it “comfortable.”
2:56 pm asked by Mrs Denbow to “do something useful.”
2:57 pm decide to ask if anyone would like tea/coffee.
2:59 pm everyone tells me they want to try my Fentiman’s Dandelion and Burdock.
3:05 pm no Fentiman’s left for me for later (inwardly weep)
3:15 pm Mrs Denbow blames me for the fact that we have missed the Queen’s Speech.
3:16 pm think of protesting.
3:17 pm decide against it.
3:30 pm watch as everyone except me gets Christmas cake, trifle and all that kind of stuff.
4:00 pm asked to clear table and generally tidy up.
4:01 pm begin to happily do so, secure in the knowledge that my Christmas cake, trifle and all that kind of stuff is waiting for me in the kitchen.
4:15 pm plates in dishwater, work surfaces scrubbed begin search for my Christmas cake.
4:30 pm come to the conclusion mine is hidden as a Christmas jape.
4:35 pm asked the assembled coffee drinking throng where my Christmas cake, trifle and all that kind of stuff actually is.
4:36 pm met with (genuinely) embarrassed smile that they’d forgotten about me.
4:38 pm advised of the location of Wotsits, Monster Munch and Asda value Rich Tea biscuits.
4:45 pm make myself another cup of tea, if they think I’m getting them more drinks they’ve got another think coming.
4:53 pm contemplate playing “Painkiller” by Birmingham metal gods Judas Priest at maximum volume in protest.
4:54 pm decide that it’s not a good idea.
5:15 pm bid farewell to daughters and significant others
5:20 pm advised by Mrs Denbow that “that went well.”
5:30 pm aim for a dreamless sleep.

Ciao For Now

Denbow

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