Awesome Friday nights
Far too often result in
Awesome Friday nights
Far too often result in
Today is Boxing Day, a day which means different things to different people.
To some it’s a day to recover from the excesses of Christmas Day, in preparation for a return to work on the 27th December.
For others it’s an opportunity to continue with the excesses because, as it turns out, they don’t actually have to go to work on the 27th.
I’m in the latter camp and fully intend to continue with the massive overconsumption of the same kinds of bad food that I imagine I consumed yesterday.
I say imagine because, as I write this, it’s still Christmas Eve. I’ve just finished writing my Christmas Day post and it’s scheduled to go live on the big day and I thought I’d push on through and write the Boxing Day post too.
Just in case I’m feeling a little too ‘tender’ on Boxing Day itself to be able to motivate myself to write anything.
As it happens I’m still watching the weird ‘celebrities-that-can’t-really-sing-perform-songs-from-West-End-musicals’ show that I was watching while I wrote the Christmas Day post. It’s still genuinely awful but also impossible to stop watching.
Once I’ve finished writing this I’m going to watch Die Hard 2: Die Harder, the sequel to the amazing Die Hard which I wrote about on Christmas Eve. Which is still today for me.
I had originally been planning to include Die Hard 2: Die Harder in my James Proclaims Advent Calendar Of Christmas(ish) films, but in the end I didn’t because:
But just because I’m planning on writing about it next year doesn’t mean I can’t watch it this year.
So I’m going to.
As soon as I finish writing this.
Which I will shortly.
Because really, what else is there to say?
It’s Boxing Day.
A day for pugilism and cardboard containers.
And for spending whatever of your hard-earned cash that you didn’t squander in the build-up to Christmas.
Because it’s time for the traditional January sales.
Which are as big a lie as Black Friday.
And mostly already over by the time January actually arrives.
But there may be some bargains to be had.
And how will you know if you don’t look?
Go on, go and look now.
I’d hate for you to miss out.
I’m sure I’ll look too, once I get to Boxing Day.
But right now I’m still enjoying Christmas Eve and planning to watch Die Hard 2: Die Harder.
Perhaps I have too little will
But I will have another refill
For though Christmas has past
The red wine seems to last
And I’m starting to feel rather ill
It is hard to believe but it’s true
There is still so much food to get through
It’s delightful to taste
Can’t let it go to waste
Though I won’t stray too far from the loo
The trouble with ‘Twixmas’, the period between Christmas and New Year, is it’s pretty hard to judge exactly how to play things ‘health wise’.
In many households there are still quite a lot of leftovers that ‘need’ to be eaten.
Cold turkey would be a case in point. Turkey sandwiches for days after Christmas is a tradition that I’ve always enjoyed.
Although it is a ‘Twixmas’ pleasure that I’ve actually given up in the name of love. Mrs Proclaims is a pescatarian (which is someone who doesn’t eat meat but does eat fish). So (even though I don’t really get it – why has a turkey got more right to live than a tuna?) I’ve also kind of become a pescatarian of sorts. I still eat meat on occasion but when I’m cooking for both of us I tend to cook vegetarian food or fish. I like fish so it’s really no hardship. For Christmas dinner I cooked a side of salmon rather than a turkey. A whole turkey for just for me seemed excessive and a properly cooked side of salmon is quite the festive treat. It was still too much for two people so there are still lots of leftovers – it’s just that I find myself eating a lot of cold salmon rather than cold turkey. Continue reading Going Cold Turkey On The Cold Turkey
As I acknowledged in last year’s Boxing Day post, the day after Christmas has nothing to do with pugilism.
Nonetheless, this morning I woke up feeling like I’d done twelve rounds with Mike Tyson in his prime.
Obviously I hadn’t done twelve rounds with Mike Tyson in his prime.
For that to have happened either I or ‘young Mike Tyson’ would’ve had to have had access to a time machine and either I travelled to then or he to now and then we’d have had to have had a boxing match, in which I would’ve needed to last longer than many a top professional boxer of that era ever managed.
There are so many reasons that that couldn’t have happened. Indeed, if I’m brutally honest, I did not wake up feeling like I’d done twelve rounds with Mike Tyson in his prime and the fact that I woke up at all is proof enough of that.
No, the allusion to Mike Tyson was a metaphor and a dated one at that. Mostly because I wanted to crowbar something about boxing into this post and, even though he hasn’t really been a top level boxer for a very long time, it’s pretty hard to think of a ‘household’ name from the current era that’s as evocative as Mike Tyson.
It matters not. Continue reading ‘Re-toxing’ on Boxing Day
As Noddy Holder off of Slade shouts whenever anyone cares to listen:
Noddy likes Christmas and if I’d written and performed one of the most successful Christmas songs of all time I’d like Christmas too.
In point of fact I have not written and performed one of the most successful Christmas songs of all time and I don’t expect I ever will. I’m going to have to find another way to ensure the festive season brings with it a massive annual royalty cheque.
But I still like Christmas and today is Christmas.
Well as I’m writing this it’s Christmas Eve. Like last year’s Christmas message, I’m writing it in advance so as to allow more time for the excessive consumption of unhealthy food on the big day and like last year I’ve schedule this post to go ‘live’ at the same time the Queen makes her annual speech to the nation.
Last year Her Madge didn’t seem too perturbed by the fact I was going head-to-head with her, but then, like me, she ‘pre-recorded’ her message in advance. I have not seen or spoken to our Head of State in person since last Christmas (or indeed ever) so I’ve no idea if she’s upset by my efforts to usurp her annual message but I can only imagine that she’s seething with rage. Continue reading The Second Annual Christmas Message from James Proclaims
Did I really just drink all that wine?
Aside from nausea, I’m still feeling fine
Now the Bordeaux has gone
Bring the next bottle on
If I’m conscious then I won’t decline
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring…
Except for an overweight bloke, dressed in red and filling a stocking full of presents.
No, not Father Christmas, but me. I’m not dressed entirely in red, but I am wearing a red top. It’s a replica of the rugby shirt as worn by the British and Irish Lions test team that narrowly lost the 2009 tour to South Africa. I’m wearing it because it’s comfortable. Continue reading A Christmas Message From James Proclaims