Sunday

Tis the Season To Be Jolly




Striding deftly past the noteworthy, if not somewhat especial, contributions of unparallelled kitschmas decorations that adorned the raised stone walls of my nearest neighbours abode this very morning. One could do little but admire the religious significance of the arrangement of roughly moulded plastic meerkats, complete with hand-painted robes and carefully pinked claws, in the rather curious semicircle presence of the baby Jesus. Quite what the meerkats and a small Jewish boy have in common is beyond even my seemingly stretched imagination when it comes to all things sacred. What is it about religion and animals? There was of course that small paragraph in the holy babble, the one about loving an ass and buggering an ox, but I skipped that section and went straight on to the Gomorrah parts, just in case it had any mucky pictures as a reference guide. I was an impressionable boy of eleven, I had much to be inquisitive about, let us not pretend that you didn't do it as well. Still, today's wall art is thankfully not as bad as last years display. I vividly recall being so deliciously regaled at the sight of the Muppet nativity scene upon the very same walls. The scale of which was shadowed only by the smallest of bright orange traffic cones. It's not as if Mr & Mrs Anonymous up at the great house are short of a penny or two. No. It's more to do with the fact that they are driven forever onwards by their lack of taste. They are from Norway you see. Apparently it is still very much 1976 over there, good taste, sensible pullovers and a penchant for cooked meat has still to arrive. The rumour in the village is that Mr Anonymous once mistakenly ate nuclear radioactive snow, was forced to leave his home town of  Brekstad and now resides, hideously deformed, here in Scotland behind the stone walls of Meerkat Palace. Me? I'm still of the firm belief that he is definitely from Belgium.

With the advent of Stressmas so nearly upon us, I again took up my position beside my beloved, cramped and hunkered onto small plastic chairs not designed for anyone over 5.3, we sat for yet another laborious two hours in the village hall, watching other peoples childer curdle the words to 'away in a manger'. Why is it that they continuously insist upon putting the ugliest ones at the front? Perhaps to keep the priests at bay? It's not that I am impartial to the angelic innocence of those so young enjoying themselves. No indeed. It is more to do with the fact that nativity plays are great when you are observing your own little angels, but not somebody else's little darlings. I have many happy memories of my own weans when they were bearded, fully robed and visiting the little lord Jaysus as he lay stiffly in a doll-like trance upon polymer straw way back when. However, clapping and smiling is now strictly reserved for those newer parents quite happily festooned with digital recording equipment, if not a desire to see their own wee treasures embark in a career as a budding actor on stage somewhere near Broadway. Politeness dictates that Siobhan and I never refuse an offer to appreciate the hard work of so many kiddies as they put in a heart-warming rendition of the back end of Joseph's illustrious, if not somewhat moth-eaten donkey. Even when it does fall off the stage for the second time in less than 5 minutes. The whole concept of  Joseph and Mary as kids scenario is mildly disturbing, particularly in light of rampant infantalisation of teenagers in our culture and the ever dropping age of puberty, though I'm sure that is not what the creators of this evenings donkey debacle quite had in mind. But then again, being of catholic origin, one can never tell.

With this festive cheer firmly ensconced in your minds, it only leaves me to wish each of you who travel here from afar to worship at the blog alter of the worst possible taste, a merry Christmas, regardless of your own chosen faith. Merry Christmas to all.

50 comments:

  1. Nollaig Shona Dhaoibhj to you and yours, sir.

    (I think that's correct...)

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    1. It is indeed sir, long may the shiny sixpence clank harmoniously against your spoon. It has been a pleasure this year to try out your recipes.

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  2. Ah, my first and only foray into acting/singing. There is a picture of me, age 9, complete with tinsel halo, singing a solo of "Away in a Manger" for a school production. :) Somewhere along the way I decided to let the professionals do the singing in public and I would stick to singing in my car.

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    1. And we thank you for that. ;-)

      Xxx

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    2. A great career on the more in-depth stage of life awaited you my dear lady, one that has you placed at my table come the Noel.

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    3. Thank heavens! I'm a much better quiet guest than front and center entertainer. :)

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    4. You are also a much better friend than just a guest my dear.

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  3. Cold Frankenstein and Mirrors.

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    1. ...if ever the back end of a mule needed to take a bow, I rest my case.

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  4. i have a terrible weakness for groups of children singing... even if they aren't my own, the sight and sound of children singing will reduce me to sniveling tears in a microsecond -- and it's got nothing to do with the quality of their voices, or even if they're homely little buggers! once mine got past the school pageants, i was relieved that i never had to attend again. i suppose if it ever comes about that i have grand children, i will again be subjected to this trauma - but will likely pack in a flask for distraction.

    As for the meerkats? Can you perhaps do a little clandestine midnight rearrangement? They are such horny things, i'm sure that it would come as no surprise if the neighbors were to find them doing the nasty some morning.

    Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a glorious Winter Solstice to you and your clan, dear Chef!

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  5. What would we do if cursed with the emotions of the gentler sex? Men have it as easy as women proclaim, make no mistake. Tis the Christmas, I will refrain from haranging you over your moment of weakness. However, come the new year...

    I may have had a moment or two of Photoshop rearrangement featuring the aforementioned rodents, but nothing I could possibly reveal, if only out of good taste and decorum.

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  6. Its funny that you say that about monied folk, they tend to be flash brash or just plain tweedy. Which just goes to show that money does not buy class.

    Merry xmas to you biggun, lets hope it will be a memorable new year for us and for Scotland.

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  7. There is a big difference of course between old money and new money sir. New money takes the old and combines it with the new to create an ancient shell with a elegant and luxurious centre. Pretty much like your meat pies. Old money tends to hang on to the old and do nothing with it. A bit like your previous landlord. Class and money do not always necessarily come hand in hand. It has to be cultivated and gently amassed over a period of time.

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  8. But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.

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    1. That's an interesting theory Mr Pew. I appreciate your view, but of course some fact to back it up would be even more interesting.

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  9. But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel, whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days.

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    1. These oddities that you appear to pluck from obscure places and then, just like a hideous, hairy bug secreting a toxin that, once engulfed by epithelial cells, causes a fulminant diarrhoea amongst those of us exposed to it.

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  10. For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

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    1. Uh-huh, as I always expected. The government is behind the limp-wristed ideology of religion. Thanks for clearing that up.

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    2. Wonderful Counsellor? Are you that bloody daft?

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    3. I do believe the answer you seek is very plain to see within the question.

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  11. Best wishes to you Jamesie lad, please pass on my respects to Panto and the boys, your gorgeous missus and all the young ones, not forgetting Sean, Patrick and big Bri Dunphy. Seasons wishes from the Geordie lot - Eamonn

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    1. Typical... a message scrawled on your phone as you wait to bundle into the taxi poised and ready to carry you away out on the lash. Och, why no, eh? It is the Christmas.

      Merry Giftmas son.

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  12. My sons have never been allowed to sing religious based carols in school as it is now forbidden.
    It's far more distressing to hear a group of 8 year olds sing "Santa Baby" than it is to hear them sing "Away in a Manger".
    Anywhoodle, I wish you,Mrs. Che. and all your kin a very Merry Christmas and New Year filled with peace, love, laughter and health!
    xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

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    1. Religious based carols are sadly the tomato sauce to fine dining.Why spoil a good sing-song with such claptrap. Childrens choir groups are only less odious than the horrific version of the little drummer boy, performed by Mr Crosby and Mr Bowie.

      May peace be upon you my dear.

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  13. Listen everyone it's Merry Fucking Christmas, not your "holidays" crap.

    Our local Catholic pervert is doing a year (i.e. 6 months) in jail for fiddling with a trainee priest's willie. The Catholic church is a pile of shit. You can't hold sex down.

    On that measured and sober response to your post Chef I will also wish you a Merry Christmas, and will also quietly store up the word "stressman" to use as my own when we've all gone our separate ways and you can't trace me.

    Trying to be serious---yours has been a great blog discovery this year. Thanks.And also that's due to 63mago so a glass to you both.

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    1. Christmas jargon is merely a group of words in any language my dear fellow, Please refrain from riling my visiting guests from Amerikay and beyond, especially as I am still trying to instill a modicum of culture into some of the continual flag waving personas from the Canadian families, not to mention the Outer Hebrides.

      Trying to be serious is just not you at all old boy, desist at once. And for the love of all things Christmical, never dally under the muddied illusion that one cannot trace you. It is only decorum and a reluctance to mix with the more feral inhabitants of Lancaster that prevents me from popping a calling card through your window attached to a flaming milk bottle full of vitriol and kerosene. Pause for thought sir, roll your lascivious mind from the gutter for a moment to recall that delicious scene from the 'Untouchables' movie, when the elevator doors slide open to reveal the bloodied, shotgunned corpse beneath the coppery smelling message 'Touched' written with the corpses own blood.

      Now that would make an interesting newspaper headline...

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  14. One more rendering of Feliz Navidad to the tune of Jingle bells and I shall rise up in my wrath and astonish Pewfodder.

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    1. My dear Helen, without doubt you have provided me with my favourite of all comments submitted this year. I thank you for your patronage, long may it continue.

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  15. If I am totally honest, I was converted to Facebook after the initial seduction of being able to get the message out there instantly. Blogging stopped for me after I got tired of reading crap from wannabe writers and attention seekers. I gotta say though that hidden amongst the crap I found more than a few gems, yours included and it made me wanna keep coming back for the satirical humour and a bigger bite than a fat man at a wedding buffet. Its lat I am drunk, but still I pop in just to end my evening on a high note and laugh. You are in real life as you are in blog life, just a hell of a lot more frightening up cl;ose. Peace!

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  16. Anthony, if you were indeed honest you would not be trying to butter me up with a simpering monologue (the 2nd this month) in regard to merely failing to admit that you are a man of extreme intelligence, sadly linked to a very lazy man. Your talent with food makes me weep in shame, should I ever acquire any shame of course, and I bow my head to your superior cuisine abilities. Should one wish to imbibe themselves with alcohol over the festive season, so be it. I shall however be extremely disappointed should you not attend my table on the 25th.

    Go in peace my son, prepare yourself to feast like a king and make merry with the after-party when the weans and oul wans have retired gently for the night in a purple haze of sprout fumes and recently unwrapped technical wizardry.

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  17. Ben-hadad sent to him and said, "May the gods do so to me and more also, if the dust of Samaria will suffice for handfuls for all the people who follow me." Then the king of Israel replied, "Tell him, `Let not him who girds on his armor boast like him who takes it off.

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    1. For the sake of all things sane Mr Pewfodder, tis the Christmas, take a wee drink and relax man.

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  18. The Muppets?! Did that really happen?! I feel faint. I have to sit down and compose myself.

    I attended the school choir concert a few nights ago. It's tough not to get caught up, isn't it? With the little one up there singing her heart our? I'm only flawed flesh and bone, after all.

    Last week my daughter, 12-years old, was asked out on a date by a classmate. 12! I was still watching Saturday morning cartoons when I was 12. Dropping puberty is right.

    Merry Christmas to you, and your family, sir. Happy New Year, too.

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  19. The Muppets accumulation is very sadly true Mark. They were arranged by a black suited butler in the pouring rain whilst the anonymous family were up at the big house peering through binoculars and screaming orders in broken English into a megaphone. I am being untruthful of course. The butlers suit was in actual fact obscured by his Dickensian apron, so it was in fact impossible to tell the true colour. My apologies for the romancation of the tale.

    At the age of 12, my own daughters were escorted both to and from school by their 4 brothers, whom were heavily involved in the typical Glaswegian ritual of scowling deeply and dragging knuckles at any would be suitor who came within a county of the girls. One can never be too careful Mark.

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  20. I canny recall being in a Nativity play. If we had one I was clearly considered to be lacking acting talent. Several have offered me parts as a donkey in other aspects of life mind.....

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  21. Plenty of donkey roles going on the pitch with your mob this season sir! I must thank you for gifting us with so many points.

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  22. I have travelled far across the Internet to be here, dragging my static caravan behind me....
    Merry Christmas, Mr Flies!!!
    Sxxxxxxx

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    1. I look forward to once again pulling your delightful wings off next year Ms Scarlet, good luck in your new home, have a fabulous Christmas and a wonderful New Year. XX

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  23. Happy Chrimbo Mr. Chef to you and yours... as a card carrying member of the Heathens i celebrated a few days early, that solstice thing, the one the Christians hi-jacked and called Christmas (I'm sure Pew will enjoy that comment), of course it involved special reserve X-mas brew and me first attempt at making X-mas cookies, the results of which are still up in the air though i find them delicious... and why didn't they import the wee singing fella to play the donkey in the local play? I'm sure he would have jumped at the chance.

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    1. Seasons greetings to you Mr Kono, I shall of course endeavour to grunt my way, quietly of course, through the traditional midnight mass one is forced to attend this very night. Many glasses will then be raised into the wee small hours before I put out the pressies for the grandweans on the moro. The little singing fella is fully booked over the silly season, he calls the bingo for the oul wans inbetween gigs. My best wishes to you and yours sir.

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    2. "Two fat ladies!"

      Nollaig Shona Kono.

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  24. I do miss seeing nativity plays; they could always be relied on to induce a helpless giggle which brought on the hiccups (and not a drop consumed).
    A treasured Christmas memory was singing Hallelujah in the church choir and feeling a great burgeoning of religious fervour - it was the day after my first kiss.
    A Merry Christmas to you dear friend, and your family and a happy,healthy 2014.

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    1. My dearest Patricia, you are never far from my heart. The festive season will bring you even closer to both Siobhan and my own thoughts. I will light a solitary candle during the mass specifically for you dear lady, you did as asked, you kept the faith so beautifully as promised.

      I look forward to the day when we knock on your door in person to pay our respects, of which there are many. Have a very Happy Christmas Patricia my dear, eat, drink and be merry.

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  25. Wishing you, Siobhan, your children and all the little ones a very warm and peaceful Christmas this year, my dear Chef. You can count me in as one of the heathen types, and you'll never find me in a church (unless for a wedding or a funeral). To me, Christmas is all about sharing time, love and laughter with your family and friends. Good food, warm drink, and the joy of watching the little ones open their gifts is perfect. I've already done a full on traditional turkey dinner yesterday for my man Maart and his son. Today, Maart and I traipse to my niece's house for the same thing with all of my family. And then tomorrow will be Chinese food with his mum, daughter and son-in-law.

    I'll save you a few pieces of vínarterta. It's a favourite around here and doesn't tend to last very long. I raise my glass to you! xoxo

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  26. Ahh, my wee Viking Princess... your comment makes for fine reading dear lady, full on and intrinsically warming. I must confess to being intrigued by the mention of vinarterta, it sounds very interesting, one recipe I shall enjoy adding to my must-do list. My best wishes go to you and your man, I hope that the festive season brings you both much joy. Enjoy...

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  27. Raising a glass (my first today!) to my big brother and all my Glasgow family... To family. :-)

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  28. Aye son, to family, and to friends, both near and far.

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  29. A grand day which started off at Tommy Flynns new place in Northampton and ended up at The Rock in Corby. To all Scots currently away from home today, have a Merry Christmas.

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Thank you, the chef is currently preparing an answer for you in the kitchen. Do help yourself to more bread.