Where does Santa stay abroad? A HO-HO-HOTEL.

Christmas. Well, what can I tell ya?

Shopping was left to the last minute, as usual. Done in a haze, hazily done. Oxford Street. Saturday 20th December. Dad - check. Grandad - check. Nana - check. Cristina - check. Mum - too difficult to buy for, leave it - hope something will turn up.

Worked 22nd and 23rd. Met Cristina at Euston station on the 23rd to take a train which would take us northward to Manchester. We both arrived as if we'd packed for a 2 year stay in an unpredictable climate country. Finally get the bags onto a train, Burger King brown bag in hand to start us off with a classic Christmas food group.

On the way, we discuss other food groups. Cristina quotes Elf: "We elves try to stick to the four main food groups: candy, candy canes, candy corns and syrup."

I groan.

Tuesday 23rd. A fantastic meal of Christmas lasagne with parents, Grandpa, Cristina and best mate Crooky. Wine flows, chaos ensues, Mum asks me why i'm not a lawyer. Christmas has officially started. Excitement.

Wednesday 24th - Christmas Eve. Family trip to restaurant in Manchester, more meatball type behaviour of stuffing faces and boozing. Last minute shopping for Mum, in heavy and detailed consultation with my Dad - goes something like this:

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - AFTERNOON.

Adam

Dad, do you think Mum would like this
make-up bag?

Dad
I just don't know son.
Adam
What do you think she wants?
Dad
She has everything son.
Adam
But I need to get her something.
Dad
I just don't know son.

Leave parents around 4pm, Cristina reminds me that tomorrow is her name day, which in Greece is more important than a birthday. She reminds me of this fact whilst holding my hand with a tight grip. This threat prompts an 11th hour shopping spree - purchase Legally Blonde and Legally Blonde 2 - ideal presents. Name Day shname day - taken care of.

In the cinema by 6pm to see 'Four Christmases'. 2 for 1 tickets - Oranges Wednesdays!!! I couldn't believe my luck. Deduce the fortune to be an early present from Santa - feel content.
Film is rubbish, dampers Christmas spirit slightly.

Too much alcohol and too much Italian food makes Cristina a bit nautious - she heads to bed early after I make her up a snackplate of cold meats and cheese. She loves this. From what I gather, her mother's snack plate is both famous and delicious. Feel good about recreating some snack plate spirit. This soujourn gives me a break to wrap the presents. Cristina comments that my bow-curling skills are too good and inappropriate for a man.

25th December. Wake up. Duh. Feeling great. Christmas morning!!! Not the buzz of being 6 years old, but still a good one. Cristina and I go through our stockings, fantastic and thoughtful presents on both sides.

Around 10pm, we head down to the lounge, joined by parents. Mum has decided to lavish Cristina with an array of pink themed gifts: slippers, shampoo, socks and bath robe. Parents don't disappoint - a fantastic spread. Mum opens her bluetooth handsfree in-car mobile phone kit - her look is pricelss. Thanks Dad.

Christmas Day breakfast at midday - a Christmas walk, and then Christmas Dinner at 6.30. We settle down on the sofa, boozed and bulging. The boardgames come out, SceneIt Interactive Movie Quiz. Dad becomes hugely competitive, Cristina joins him in this spirit and tries to beat hard on a tired mother and ageing Grandpa. They lose, Dad gets frustrated, but not disheartened. Mum asks me why i'm not a lawyer. Collapse in bed after one last inspection of Christmas presents.

*****

There was probably a lot more along the way. And it was all a bit of a whirlwind. I'm sure your Christmas was the same. A madcap dash to shop, eat, drink, unwrap and sleep. People say it's a great time for taking stock of where you're at in life. I think it all happens too quickly for that. But, it does give you a chance to take stock of those around you. Friends, family, cats, dogs, hamsters - everyone. In which case, I had a great Christmas, and would do it all again in a flash.

To Do: Christmas

walkin' the walk

My housemate showed me this incredible picture of Obama on the campaign trail, as he talks to reporters in Providence, Rhode Island (a state which eventually went to Clinton in the primary). 

The detail of the worn-out soles of his shoes says everything really. And in the bottom right corner, you can just about make out the spine of his own book, 'The Audacity of..." 

Go now and see lots more incredible photos at Time magazine's web-site. 

Pepsi - well done, you made a funny...

                                                                                                                                                                      
 

I'm quite a fan of this Pepsi Max advert, which I found lying around the internet somewhere.

Twist, follows twist, follows twist = FUNNY. Well done Pepsi, you piqued my interest. 

BUT - let's not kid ourselves - massive stereotyping has it's place in this world. How do we differentiate between a geeky girl and a hot mama? Simple: a pair of wide-rimmed glasses and a book. Hot mama wearing the time-tested LBD - simple formulas work, as upsetting and impersonal as they may be. 

What is the gay guy wearing? A black 't', tightly fitted around the biceps and chest region (yes, I notice). Is this a formula? Yes and no. Yes because a lot of gay guys go for the black 't' look. No because if you're straight, the chances are you can't pull one off. 

Douchebag Holiday photos

Why is it the case that when people are abroad, and they see a shop with a mildly rude name - they feel the need to take a photo of it? And then show it to the world by posting it on facebook. I just don't get what their message is. 

"Here, LOOK at the name of this shop - 'KNOBS AND KNOCKERS' - honest, it's a real shop, I took a photo. Don't you get it? KNOBS as in, well you know. And KNOCKERS, as in, well you know, tits. Look, I took a photo." 

"What do they sell?" 

"Dunno. Bras and underpants I reckon."

 Just in case you thought I was kidding. 

We've probably all done it at some point in our lifetime. I remember when I was fifteen on a ski holiday to France, on the bus to Meribel, we passed the quaint little village of Pussy (there's probably a french accent somewhere on that name). Predictably, the whole coach thought the coincidence was too hilarious to miss with a camera. 

Most ridiculous are the photos of signs, restaurants or shops which have the same name as the person taking them. Or even, worse, if you see a shop called 'Doug - charcuterie' and decide that your actual friend Doug from back home would fall off his chair laughing when he finds out that there is a little ham shop on the outskirts of Marseilles named after him. Just. Not. Funny. 

"Oh look - there's a car. A car that has 'Coke' on the side. I've NEVER seen that in my life. Quick, quick, get a picture before it drives away. No, wait, get a picture with me trying to open it as if it's my coke car. Hey, shit, I just thought, "coke car" - do you think the guy is a drug dealer?"

Maybe I'm being a bit harsh here. It's only a bit of holiday harmless fun after all. Let's not take it too seriously. 

Funny story of today.

This is frickin' hilarious.

Obama and me.

I never really blogged on the US Election around the time of the 4th November. Part of the reason for this is that I was driving along in my car during the day of the election, I looked overhead to see a flock of white birds had just taken flight above me. That's nice, I thought. Freedom, liberation, purity - perhaps today will be a good day for America and the world.

As that though was passing through my mind, a huge load of bird shit landed on my windscreen, like heavy bird shit rain. White globules of "ha ha we're birds and we can shit on your car if we want to". Appropriately, I shouted "oh shit!". Then I turned on the wind-screen wipers by accident, smearing the mess all over. Then I tried to turn on the windscreen wash button, only to dilute their pasty white crap and give my windscreen a white hue as if I had smoked it out.

It occurred to me that on this momentous day in world history, when something great was happening in America, a flock of birds had decided to shit on my day, and my car.

Luckily for the world (but not for me), this was not a case of 'same shit, different day'. Obama romped to a historic victory. Did he change the world that day? Yes, I think he did. Did he change America? Time will tell.

But, let us not let thoughts of the future shit on his parade. He achieved a great and wonderful thing that day, and his honorable campaigners (and of course their generous financial backers - no shit) should receive all the plaudits.

John McCain's campaign however, well that was just a crock of shit, wasn't it? Every time I saw a clip of him on the road, Mississippi, Ohio, Florida, he was just shootin' the shit, totally directionless, without policies that affected any real change in the Obama sense of the word. Shit, he didn't stand a chance.

Well, i'm glad Americans stood their ground and went with the right man. It's a very exciting political time right now, and it can only be a good thing that millions of first-time voters are entering a political climate which engages their interest like no other before it.

Obama comes into effect 20th January.

 Something is going to hit the fan.

Let's hope my car stays in tact.

Quantum of Solace - film review

The "To Do" list is packed out at the moment, and there never seems to be enough time to do it all, or anywhere near all of it. 

Regardless of this, I took the time out to go and see the latest installment in the Bond franchise at the weekend. After the success of its predecessor had caused a Bond revolution, a major refurbishment of all that was old and tacky into all that is modern and tonic, there was quite a bit of hype surrounding its release. 

In the midst of a world recession, it is both comforting and disturbing to see that the only two things that can swing the headlines away from the credit crunch are James Bond and the X-Factor. Perhaps there is a role yet for Cheryl Cole as the next Bond crumpet?

 Or perhaps we can run a competition to find the next bond (the "OO-Factor"), in which contestants have to show they can tackle warlords and tie a bow tie? 

The thought is not as ridiculous as the latest Bond film itself, which would most definitely fail to impress Simon Cowell. The plot circles around the globe like a moth buzzing around a light, with no aim or purpose, only serving to tire itself out completely. We go from Siena (Italy), to Haiti, over to Bregenz (Austria), to London, to La Paz (Bolivia), finally settling in a remote part of the Bolivian desert. All of this without a moment's rest, not even to have a quick peek to see if Bond picks anything up at duty free. 

In my memory, a Bond film has never been so impatient. These films work in "bumps", short bursts of action, equally spaced apart to maintain inertia whilst giving the audience time to breathe. We never get this opportunity to breathe in Quantum, the action ties us down and wont let go. 

All the classic elements have been sold off in a Bond scrapyard sale. Q the gadget man has been deemed too old to be in the new films. The flirtations of girl-next-door Moneypenny have also undergone the chop. Most upsetting is the decision to absent the most famous movie song of all time, the Bond theme song. Normally played over an action scene (i.e. Pierce Brosnan devastating Moscow in an army tank - see it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtnVPzMHdMg), in Quantum the song is wasted over the end credits. 

A word on Daniel Craig also: rage. That is the best word to describe his performance. He never lets up for a moment, even when he sits down to drink a glass of water, his veins seem to be popping with the sheer anger that he feels toward the world. Bond was never this angry, but if we are led to believe that this performance marks a sea change in our perception of Bond, then perhaps we have to accept the transformation. 

However, if this is really the case, then perhaps the producers can appease us by leaving in some of the old trademarks that we so love and enjoy. Such a radical overhaul of a british cultural institution like Bond will doubtless have its critics. We can't just go and put a yellow hat on Big Ben because Damien Hirst tells us it looks good, and nor can we go and make Bond so angry. 

Just like the BBC's recent debate between the neo-Brand-ites and the conservative Songs of Praise watchers, a film like Bond will always have its traditionalists and its modernisers. The debate between the two will rage furiously. And that is not a bad thing. What the last two films have done is open up a level of discussion, in the pubs and cinemas, about what Bond should be. That type of discourse is healthy and fantastic for the future of the cinema. 

This is by no means a bad film, and I encourage you to make the effort and go to see it. If they can afford to spend $200 million in making the film, your ticket price of £7 seems excellent value for money. There are some fantastic scenes, and as an action film, it is better than the rest. As a Bond film, it may leave you slightly perplexed. 

They predict that the number of cinema visitors will be the highest it's been since 1969. The Quantum of Solace has a lot to do with that, but we must remember that Bond can never be all things for all people. 

Quantum of Solace: 

Action: 8

Acting: 6

Eye Candy: 8

Overall: 7 

To Do: Try to be smooth like Connery, not angry like Craig.