Hating Christmas early

I have already been wished a happy Christmas by Jamie Oliver and Sainsbury's. NO. It's only the middle of bloody November. I also note that Tesco are selling ready-made kids' shepherd's outfits for Nativity plays. WRONG. It is traditional that children wear a tea-towel on their head, held in place with an elasticated snake belt, worn with a huge t-shirt, clutching the soft toy they own that looks most like a sheep.

Still, at least I was cheered by a Post Office delivery van with the logo 'Bringing the spirit of Christmas to you' (or somesuch), combined with a hideous, bitter picture of Scrooge from the current Christmas Carol movie. That's much better.

Yours faithfully, Unhinged of Crystal Palace

I suppose that, having written this, it was inevitable that I'd receive a letter from a reader containing the following choice material: 'I would love to see you in your finery, say for afternoon tea, but appreciate such an idea is pie in the sky for you, but perhaps a picture(s) would be possible?', before going on to a detailed explanation of how to put on stockings properly, using the word me and my colleague Adam were 'ugh!'-ing over last week - 'panties'.

Yup, you can assume a 'No' to the first, and a 'Bloody hell, do you always write to strangers with requests like that?'. And also, Mr CP, as my feature wasn't bylined, how do you know I am not a dead ringer for Bella Emberg? But that's the thing with fetishists; it's the fetish, not the person that's the thing. I was talking to a casual acquaintance who isn't quite Kate Moss, who used to go to clubs for Big, Beautiful Women, and found it rather an odd experience. She told me that the guys who were there seemed to have a thing for just trying to go for the hugest woman there, regardless of how lovely the other girls were, or how charming the biggest lass was. It was just a competition to see who could pull the biggest prize; utterly humiliating for the other women there.

People are strange, eh, readers?

Put your left leg in...

Did you know that Isla St Clair did a Shape Up and Dance record? Imagine trying to tighten your buns to the Skye Boat Song, or that one she used to sing about herring's heads. I also love the fact that George Best and Mary Stavin did one, too. Imagine the instructions: 'And lift your right arm....right arm...right arm...". You'd think the record had stuck, but it'd just be George's instructions for what your right arm's for. 

You've been framed

$3,682 for framing a photograph? I'd have gone to Wilkinson's and bought a big frame, plus a kid's easel to put it on, for about, ooh, thirty quid.

I'd also love to know what burial garments cost $35,000; not any of these.

Cyclists. Again.

After lunch at the Man-About-Town's with the Griffins yesterday, I vowed to court controversy with a rant about cyclists again.  After all, Mrs G's done it, so my turn, I think. Having seen a cycle courier riding along the pavement and almost knock down an old lady last week, with the gobful of swearing coming from the rider as opposed to the pedestrian, it's an issue that continues to get my goat. 

It's that 'I'm saving the planet, I'm perfect' attitude which gets me. And, whilst it's awful that cyclists often get killed by being crushed by lorries at junctions, why do so many of them pull up at a junction on the kerbside, thereby putting themselves exactly in a lorry driver's blind spot? Why not just hold back, and steer clear of big vehicles? Anyway, lots of sensible cyclist comment here. You can't legislate for people who won't take care of their own safety, can you?

The Music Lovers

On Ian McNabb's Facebook page (that man courts controversy; you should ask to be his mate), he's been complaining about how Morrissey refused to come back on stage after having a bottle thrown at him by some toss-pot in Liverpool this week. Another commenter said that he was at an Oasis gig in Liverpool, which involved the chucking of glasses of urine, which sloshed around on the floor. Nice.

To be honest, I think Morrissey is getting soft in his old age. If I was him, I'd have asked my loyal fans to point out the bottle-throwing twat, and got security to have chucked him out, rather than having a hissy fit. It seems that the days when Mozza could get a packet of sausages chucked at him at the Royal Albert Hall and merely describe it as 'a misguided act of love' have gone. When people pay a ton of money for a gig, it's the least you can do.

But what I don't get is that anyone might pay forty-odd quid for a gig ticket, only to go and behave like a moron. If you want to go to a pub and get off your tits, well, that's why you go, and you don't have to pay an admission charge. But to pay a large slab of dosh to go to a gig, when the last thing on your mind is to watch the band, is absolute lunacy.

Went to see Edwyn Collins at the Bloomsbury Ballroom (what a brilliant venue), and I was delighted to see hardly any mobiles being used to video or photograph the gig, and everyone was lovely. Yes, probably a slightly older crowd,but just full of people there to see Edders, rather than pose, get pissed, or talk over the band, having paid twenty quid for the privilege. Great gig, of course, and good to spot lots of faces, including Malcolm Ross.

Hopefully, no bad behaviour at the Union Chapel on Monday, where I'm off to see Jimmy Webb and his offspring, inspired by Mr Reynolds, whose lovely version of Webb's little-known See You Then you can hear here. And I've just found this version of Webb's Saturday Suit by Cass Elliot.

Couldn't resist adding this one, too. Not a Jimmy Webb, but penned by Cass' sister Leah Kunkel. Nobody does unrequited like Cass.

Email du jour

Dear Clair

Horizons, the foodservice analyst and consultancy, has just released the results of its biannual Menurama research which analyses menus from over 400 of the UK's top 100 leading chain and independent pub, restaurants and hotels.

The findings revealed some interesting trends regarding pricing, namely that while the price of main courses has remained fairly steady over the past year, desserts and starters are becoming more expensive as operators seek to make up for revenue they have lost by having to run discounts and price promotions.

I hope you find this of interest. If you need any further information, please call me on XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kind regards

Yes! I am interested! Do you, by any chance, have any case studies of people who have faced financial ruin after booking a family meal at a mid-priced pub-restaurant, and been made financially unstable by the cost of a Granny's, Old-Fashioned, Home-Microwaved Apple Crumble, and subsequently found themselves homeless? Or a story of someone who ran amok with a carving knife amidst the Harvester salad cart, pushed over the edge by not being able to afford a Marshmallow Overload (Serves Two) in order to impress a date? Or an unaffordable pate and toast starter ruining a marriage?

Do let me know!

PS: A chum just forwarded me this email:

Hi All,

Cat Welfare Week, in association with Cats Protection will be running from 23-29 November and is dedicated to raising awareness of the factors that cause feline stress, reminding owners what actions and traits are simply normal behaviour and which could be an indication of compromised welfare.
 
I wondered whether you would like to attend an event that we are holding on 5th November at Spa Illuminata in Mayfair – it is a briefing session with top animal behaviourist Sarah Heath and Director of Veterinary Services at Cats Protection, Maggie Roberts.  We will treat you to relaxing pedicure, while Sarah and Maggie will be on hand to give you the low down on feline behaviour and stress.
 
Please see attached for more information on Cat Welfare Week and below for the briefing details. 

What does having a pedicure - or, in vetinary parlance, having your nails clipped - have to do with cat's welfare? In fairness, it's probably just to get people along, but I think it would only be fair to offer other services on the press day. Like neutering.