Santa's embers

Before Santa climbs down your chimney this Yuletide, I suggest you dampen the embers – a red hot arse is no way to impress the old man.

List of prezzis should be neatly typed, none of your spidery writing with ink blots, the result of too many whiskeys, and keep it short.



You try lugging round a sack, filled with Ipods and laptops, see how you feel.

My tip for successful Sants grovelling, is – forget the bloody milk, a decent glass of malt, and some nice cold grouse with game chips (to the hoi polloi, that’s crisps)

Oh yeah, keep the fearsome hound locked up in the coalhouse.
Father Nicholas will be making some very unholy remarks if ‘Fluffy’ sinks canine choppers round his private parts, or anywhere else.



This cold weather can make a chap remember his bladder – post clear signs to the bathroom, or you might find Santa putting out the embers, all by himself.
I’m orff to find the whiskey, I mean pour some out for Santa


Happy Christmas to everyone, (and with gritted teeth) that includes the Kraken groupies.



Yep.

Off to see the Kraut

Right, I'm orff to see the Kraut

While I am gone, there is no need for anyone to think they can let rip with Krakens, slimy sucker-pads, or anything else of that 'ilk'

And a word of warning, to the personage who asked if I was catching the Trans-Siberian train - he will regret that little quip (right where the sucker-plates go)

Yep

Can you hear the weather?

I don’t think the weather bods in this country have got it right; at one time our television broadcasts were bespattered by a clutch of toothsome young women, who beseeched us ‘to wrap up warmly’ and ‘take care out there’.

Not everyone cared for these sweetie-pies, and comments about ‘unwanted Nannies’ were rife: there were nostalgic longings for the weather forecasts of yesteryear.



I mean no one could imagine Michal Fish exhorting you to ‘Have a warm scarf’ or look terribly anxious at the thought of rain pattering down on your little head.

He might have assured us that the gales which flattened this country (1987) did not exist

I quote:

"Earlier on today apparently a lady rang the BBC and said she heard that there was a hurricane on the way. Well don't worry if you're watching, there isn't."

But he wore a tweedy jacket with a tie, and looked like everyone’s class teacher.
Fine, that’s how I like it – it’s going to rain, and the isobars do their thing.

(Mr Fish now says he was talking about Florida- I never heard him say anything about Florida)
Never mind

They’ve lost the plot, them at the BBC. The current trend is for the presenter to stand out in the rain, cold and miserable, telling you that....wait for it hombres....
‘It’s going to rain.’ Gosh.

I can’t see that having the poor sod stand in their Blue Peter garden improves it either.

(for you Yanks , BP is a kid’s programme where they make things out of cartons, and borrow the kiddies from a stage school, to make it look good)

What’s wrong with the studio format, where a person, in this case, a nice young lady, stands in front of a chart and points?
Nothing at all




I think the Yanks have got it right – cheerful person, in nice warm studio, and however bloody awful the weather is, beams at you anyway.



I guess the Beeb are into reality TV.
Let’s be happy they don’t ask the presenter to add sound effects, when it’s windy.

Yep.