Whamaggedon…

I have always been fascinated by the pedestrian crossings in Trafalgar Square, and in that spirit, let me begin by wishing each and every one a very merry and inclusive Christmas, and a wonderful New Year. Please enjoy responsibly!!!

I will of course be summing up the last year and making my predictions for next, in a newsletter next week, just as we Brexit 2018, and invade 2019.

I have tried to make the newsletter more manageable, as some of you were drifting off before you’d got to the best bits. So, sort of bite size, a little nibble, tapas to what would have been a pincho. I would say shorter, but then I start to suffer from Napoleon Complex… Down descends the red mist, and I become all Vodka and Red Bull!

Astro Alf, my astrologer said it was all in the stars, he’s like a pocket Nostradamus and now the resident horoscope king of a particular magazine… myrrh! (grrrrrr didn’t sound quite so Christmassy!)

His horoscopes have more of a fashion twist about them. If you are a Gemini avoid twin-sets, and don’t wear chaps when the moon and other planetary objects are in the ascendancy. Oooooh, that’ll be the Julian Clary in me!

I can see the pantomime has left a lasting impression.

Luckily I’m a Virgo! Well, Scorpio actually, but the joke didn’t work as well. Although as you all want to come back as me; best not be a Virgo then!

Jose didn’t walk, he was pushed.

The rules of Whamageddon are clear, and the fourth rule clearly states, that if you recognise the song you’re out…

At Anfield Jose couldn’t get his fingers in his ears quickly enough. If you are unclear what Whamageddon is, please be kind enough to look it up, and those of you still in the game, good luck remember last Christmas I gave you my heart…

Jose, Jose, Jose  there is no point in fighting it. You recognised it, and burying your head in the ice bucket in the dugout didn’t cut it with senior management. The gentlemanly thing to do is walk.

Blessed are the glassmakers for they will become Glazers! Couldn’t resist it.

And absolutely no point in reminiscing on what you were doing ‘Last Christmas’, Jose; or crying over spilt milk crates, let’s concentrate on what you may be doing next Christmas, apart from the washing up as you need to pay off a rather large hotel bill.

All that remains, once again is wish you season’s greeting, have a wonderful time, enjoy it to the maximum, and I will avoid any clichés until it is all over. I am headed off to see my mother and all that entails.

She had suggested quail for Christmas lunch, perhaps as you get older your appetite shrinks, but this was a step too far. There was an option of quail’s eggs as a starter, so in that case we know what came first…

Happy Christmas

Copyright © 2018 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

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