Christmas has officially begun.

Me and the bread knife took our little one to see the turning on of the Christmas lights in our town today. This is and was notable for it's special celebrity guest who was introduced with the following sentence (I shit you not):

"Ok! Do any of you watch a program on television called Coronation Street? Do you know who Fizz is? Well she has had a lot of trouble with boyfriends in the past, what with going out with Kirk and all."

At this point the crowd buzzed in anticipation of sharing oxygen with a bona fide soap star. Could it really be that a fat ginger lass from a shite soap opera was actually lowering herself to appear in our little borough on the outskirts of Leeds? Not exactly.

"Here tonight to turn on our lights is Fizz off Corries present love interest!!! Please go wild for this fella here!" (or words to that effect). Not a fucking clue. The fireworks were great though.

Bling bling.

If you were ever curious as to what an idiot wearing a £1500 coat might look like then wonder no more.

It's been too long/Dear me.

My neighbour has a massively skewed opinion of his own social status. He has built a wooden enclosed, tiny gravel driveway to house his Audi A4 convertible and there is a sign above the entrance proclaiming to all that he does not live in a terraced house like the rest of us mere mortals on the street, but in a "Villa". Christ, mine is the only house with a garage but you don't here me shouting about it. What a cock. Where was I? Oh, yes and when the council put the above notice (you will notice that it is definitely a notice) on the side of his house, he actually went and had that number plate printed up to stick under it. Just in case. This country.