Christmas Comedown

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I don’t know what I’m watching
On my television
I didn’t choose the channel
That wasn’t my decision

It was already chosen
When I switched on the screen
To change it seems an effort
And for that I’ll need caffeine

Cos I’m feeling rather tender
I’m really not sure why
Perhaps I’ve overdone it
On the mulled wine and mince pies

Or is my incapacity
To move today by dint
Of eating that whole box
Of after-dinner mints

All I know is I’ve been rendered
A little bit inept
If fact I’m feeling worse
Now that I have slept

And for yesterday’s excesses
I’ll pay the price today
But I really don’t regret it
It was a great buffet

So I’ll just spend this morning
In an undignified slouch
Watching random telly
From the comfort of my couch

 

Going Cold Turkey On The Cold Turkey

James Proclaims (4)

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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

‘Re-toxing’ on Boxing Day

James Proclaims (4)

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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

Morning Is Broken

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Gordon took a sip of his lukewarm tea, his fifth cup of the morning, both in terms of volume of tea and indeed receptacles. The previous, now empty, mugs sat on the pine coffee table (bought second-hand from a charity shop and by far the nicest piece of furniture he owned) in front of him, alongside a trio of plates, the first containing the remnants of a bacon sandwich, a breakfast he hadn’t actually been able to stomach, the second a congealed mess that he knew to be the remains of last night’s chicken chow mein (as per his usual pre-pub Friday night ritual) and the less said about the third the better, he’d obviously picked up something on his way back from the bar but he couldn’t honestly identify it now – a vaguely unpleasant taste of garlic sauce at the back of his throat suggested it may have been a kebab. Surrounding the various  unclean ceramics were several empty beer bottles. Continue reading Morning Is Broken