GOODBYE 2009

Here we are again on New Year's Eve and ready to say goodbye to 2009 and the noughties. Looking back, it's been a great year for me. I finally finished 3 years of nurse training and although now have letters after my name, the flipside is a frightening overdraft and a penchant for shopping at Aldi and Netto.

2009 also saw England winning the Ashes, rain falling every day throughout the summer, the break-up of OK magazine's perenial favourites Katie Price and Peter Andre, Swine Flu, the Su-Bo and Jedward phenomenon, the collapse of the banks and worldwide recession, banking executives receiving eye-watering pay-offs, MP's getting away with eye-watering expenses, and the first African-American become the 44th president of the US. Sadly, we continued to see the heartbreaking sight of the townsfolk of Wootton Bassett turning out in their hundreds to pay their respects to the bodies of British serviceman and women returning from Afghanistan...

2009 also saw the deaths of many well-known figures, some of whom died tragically too young....

Wendy Richard (65) EastEnders actress, Natasha Richardson (45) actress, Jade Goody (27) reality tv star and campaigner for early screening for cervical cancer, Danny La Rue (81) female impersonator, Farrah Fawcett (62), Charlie's Angels actress, Michael Jackson (50), King of Pop, Sir Bobby Robson (76) former England manager, Patrick Swayze (57) Dirty Dancer, Stephen Gately (33) Boyzone singer, Maggie Jones (75) Corrie's Blanche, Brittany Murphy (32) actress, Albert Scanlon (74) Man Utd Busby Babe.

As 2010 approaches, happy new year and here's to a summer ahead of finally seeing England lift the World Cup in South Africa and a new series of Katie and Peter; the Next Chapter...

BRING BACK MIKE YARWOOD

Did anyone have the misfortune to watch last night's All Star Impression Show on ITV1? You had to see it to believe it - car crash tv which was so breathtakingly bad it needs to join the Sam Fox / Mick Fleetwood hosting the Brit Awards Hall of Fame. ITV have had their arses whipped big style this christmas by the BBC's scheduling of EastEnders, Gavin and Stacey, The Royal Family to name but a few. With the exception of Coronation Street and Harry Hill's TV Burp, ITV have got it very wrong with their christmas scheduling, especially showing something of this ineptitude on primetime tv Boxing Day night. Hosted by Stephen Mulhern, we were introduced to various 'celebs' impersonating other 'celebs'. Claire Sweeney, star of 60 Minute Makeover and Park Hampers adverts staggered on and 'impersonated' Stacey Soloman. Who? Oh yeah, the girl that came 3rd on the X Factor. Someone called Steve Riks (?) gave us Russell Brand. Well, he overly thrusted his crotch in every direction to emphasise the point that Russell likes a bit of rumpy pumpy (I nearly wet myself at that). Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, Sally Lindsay gives us Dannii Minogue - yes that's her in the photo.. I know, the resemblance is staggering. Although at first you think she's Liza Minnelli, it's only when she superimposes Dannii's Melbourne accent with her own Gorton accent, do you fully appreciate the horror still to come. There was Bobby Davro and Les Dennis sat in a bath impersonating Chris Tarrant and Gary Barlow (not an obvious comedic link there), MacKenzie Crook and Ian Lee doing Steptoe and Son (very current characters I see) which scares you in a kind a paedophile-looking way, Jerry Hall doing Katie Price in her Texan drawl and perhaps the most disturbing... Tim Healy and Paul Daniels doing Ant and Dec. If you didn't watch it, try downloading it on iPlayer and see if words fail you and start dribbling and asking Matron for more tablets....

FLOP IDOL

During this morning's ponder in the shower, I was thinking about one of my comedy idols and then about idols in general. It had started with me thinking about the rubbish tv programmes this christmas and in particular Victoria Wood's mid-life christmas tv offering which was utter pants. So bad in fact, having hemorrhoids would have been funnier. You see the problem is Victoria Wood has been my comedy idol for over 30 years and this one duff programme has unfairly I suppose, left me in a void of disappointment with Ms Wood. Maybe I'm being too harsh as everyone is allowed a bad day at the office but the excellent live performer and creator of the Barry & Freda song, Kitty, Acorn Antiques and Dinnerladies should then pen such hogwash is a big let down. And so to the other idols throughout my life and how for very different reasons they turned out to be less idol and more letdown. From a very young age I sat mesmerised watching the greatest player on a football pitch flying down the wing with skill, panache and blessed with dark brooding looks. From that moment onwards, I knew I would be hooked forever and irrevocably to George Best and Manchester United. And when he left United after troubled times with the club, I still loved him and his womanising, gambling and E-Type Jaguar ways. George still played football and at times showed some of the genius of his times at Man Utd. On the pitch he was a star, but as time went on and the excesses of alcohol and antics off the pitch got more of a hold, George Best's star began to fade. Better to remember George in the red and white of United terrorising defences than to watch his embarrassing slurring on talk shows and eventual health decline with liver disease.

Growing up and listening to Motown records, Diana Ross also became one of my idols. As a young, hopeful yet slightly delusional young kid, I wrote to Jim'll Fix It to ask to become a Supreme. Needless to say the BBC's budget couldn't stretch to flying me off to Detroit, so I lost out to a bunch of boy scouts who wanted to ride the big dipper at Blackpool Pleasure Beach whilst eating hamburgers and milkshake. Years later I joined thousands of others at the NEC and saw Diana Ross in concert. During the Motown medley, Ms Ross ventures into the audience during 'Ain't No Mountain High Enough' and is heading in my direction. First my hands start sweating, then as she gets nearer I begin hyperventilating and reach for the nearest nebulizer despite not being an asthmatic. As she is stops in the aisle next to me I then begin to shake, weep in the style of Rita Fairclough complete with dripping nose just as she stretches out an outreached hand during 'If you need me, call me...'. Diana looks down in disdain at this gawping, crying, snot stained gibbering fool with a breathing problem who (and this makes me cringe to this day) can only manage the awful words 'Can I be one of your Supremes?'. To be honest, under scrutiny of concert lighting, Diana looked a little like a transvestite from Funny Girls Blackpool in that she had this huge hair, about an inch of makeup applied and the longest and strangest false eyelashes seen anything other than a giraffe. Years later, and here comes the letdown, Diana publicly makes a show of herself at a British airport claiming the female Customs Officer had sexually molested her. Later on she was filmed being caught by the police driving while intoxicated and abusing the police. There's a saying never meet your idols which is probably true until I met my final idol.. Dawn French quite by accident. She was funny, generous of her time and very down to earth. As for the others, ah well, it seems idols are human after all and are just like the rest of us... get drunk occasionally and write a load of crap....

IL BELLO GIOCO - AC MILAN V UTD

This morning watched with baited breath the last 16 of the Champions League draw televised live on sky sports. The English clubs were well represented again but with the exception of the mighty Liverpool. I'm not a great Liverpool fan (Man Utd fans don't have the best rapport with our NW neighbours), but it's still good to see a team with Liverpool's European reputation and classy players such as Torres and Gerrard playing at the highest level. So to the draw; Barca got the golden ticket at Stuttgart, Lyon host Real Madrid and Porto play Arsenal. The two mouth-watering draws are Mourinho's Inter Milan returning to Chelsea and AC Milan v Manchester United....David Beckham's return to the Theatre of Dreams. I'm sure the fans will give him a tremendous ovation when Beckham returns. He was after all, a fantastic player at Utd and is a red through and through. The game will of course pitch together two of the greatest teams in Europe mixing skill, passion, flair and doggedness. It will also see the visit of one of the greatest examples of male totty - the babe that is the AC Milan coach - Leonardo. I make no apologies for my female perspective on my 40 year obsession with the beautiful game which lapses at times into 'wow, he looks good in a pair of shorts'. Yes, I can explain the 4-4-2 formation and the offside rule, but I also recognise sex on legs when see it. Leo, Utd will beat your team I'm afraid, but you will always be my number 1. Closely followed by Mourinho, Ginola, Best.....

WATER WATER EVERYWHERE...

Two days have passed since my new shower was fitted which has given me enough time to reduce my blood pressure to normal levels. You see, the problem is I'm cursed with water spillage. Not just a small puddle or an occasional drip. Taps, pipes, boilers, drains all leak with alarming regularity and devastation within my home. A coupel of years ago, an electrician managed to cut through a central heating pipe and the resulting flood caused thousands of pounds worth of damage to my ceilings, carpets and walls. It was with some hesitation that I asked a plumber to sort out my shower which has had a pathetic trickle of water either at scalding or stone cold temperature for the past three years. A pump was fitted and I stood back and gazed in pure happiness in expectation of last having a decent pressurised shower. The plumber drove off in his white van with jaunty wave, a sizeable cheque in his pocket and several cups of coffee and a packet of biscuits in his belly. Upstairs I went to try out my new shower, when there was a huge 'pop', water gushing from behind my shower knob and that awful realisation that gallons and gallons of water was now making its way through my carpets and down my walls towards the lounge below. Joy of joys, water was indeed gushing through ceiling coves and downwards through light shades and sockets before resting soggily and across wide-ranging areas on my wool carpets. Anyway, I find myself saying swear words I hadn't realised I knew and began the mop up operation. The plumber returned and it all turned out well in the end. New parts were fitted, the carpets and walls have dried out, and best of all the shower is fantastic. For now....

GINGER NUTS

Tesco announced today that it was removing this Christmas card because of complaints from a customer claiming the card was offensive. The lady from York has three children of her own with red hair and did not find the reference to children with ginger coloured hair being very funny. At first I thought, oh no here we go again with the PC brigade having yet another sense of humour bypass. The mickey taking and slightly rude greetings cards are always the first ones I reach for and I generally find them very funny. However, I think this card may just tip the balance in making me feel slightly uncomfortable with the message that children with ginger coloured hair could be viewed as 'unlovable'. Take it a step further to 'fat kids', 'ugly kids', 'disabled kids', 'ethnic kids' and it becomes less and less funny. So do we applaud Tesco for withdrawing the card, or do we condemn their buying department for allowing it through onto their shelves in the first place? And lay off gingers/auburns - I'm thinking Paul Scholes, Catherine Tate, Damien Lewis, Pebbles Flintstone and my little football-mad great nephew Sam....

DAYTIME TV IS SUCH DROSS

When you're sat at home with time on your hands waiting to start a new job, strange things happen to you. Cleaning the house becomes more thorough, baking becomes the norm, you begin to make shopping lists, blog sites are born and worse still... you begin to watch daytime tv. It starts with The Jeremy Kyle Show where a varying display of tattoos, piercings and trackie bottom-wearing chavs shout, lie, accuse and deny their way through 'problems' that make your eyebrows reach for your hairline. This week's offering saw a daughter claiming her 62 year old mother is a nymphomaniac, sells sexual favours, exposes herself in public and has various STD's. On walks mommie dearest resembling Jackie Pallo in a dress who duly obliges by pulling her top down to the audience...nice. Moving on to Cash In the Attic where people called Tarquin go rooting through your cupboards to find family heirlooms to raise money for not the expected things like an operation in the US to save your granchild's sight, but usually more mundane like raising £400 for a new garden bench. Roll on 12.30 for a lunchtime of madness that is Loose Women. The saucy seaside postcard humour comes to life when Coleen, Denise, Jane, Carole et al 'share' nauseating stories of their various peccadillos. Cue guffaws and pawing at male flesh when male models are introduced wearing underwear (at alarming regularity). Just in time to put your cup of tea and gypsy creams to brace yourself for Dickinsons Real Deal. David is a perma-tanned, strange suit-wearing pantomine character who speaks in an unfathomable voice about old things (conversely, not Loose Women's Sherie Hewson). Just when it can't get any worse there's the Alan Titchmarsh Show, Deal or No Deal and the Paul O'Grady Show. It's enough to make you run to the hills and bury your remote control in a peat bog. Hang on though, Murder She Wrote is just starting.....

COLA'S GONE FLAT

It seems Bruce's wig and crap jokes are not the only travesties on this weekend's Strictly Come Dancing. Ok, Ali Bastian is a bit of a dullard and the romance with her dance partner Brian 'one eyebrow' Fortuna is a little icky, but blimey, they could dance. They've been consistently good right from the start and were hotly tipped to win the competition. This week saw Hansel and Gretel.. sorry Ali and Brian get perfect scores from the judges for their American Smooth. Then, amazingly, they get voted off by the fickle public and lose out to the deeply dippy Chris Hollins and Ola Jordan go through to the final. Call me a cynical old git, but these two are very personable (if not a little nauseating), but they haven't exactly set the dance floor alight with their technique or amazing dancing skill. They have got by with a crap nickname (Team Cola), a crap catchphrase (Yeah baby) and the 'Journey' word mentioned a few times. Oh yeah, and Chris works for the BBC as a presenter.....

RYAN GIGGS SP 2009

Ok..I'm biased as a Man Utd devotee, but I was delighted to see Ryan Giggs just win the BBC Sports Personality of Year 2009. Giggsy stands above his peers as a consummate professional who has played at the highest level since playing on schoolboy terms at Utd. He's a one club man who plays with flair, skill and sportsmanship. He's a family man who gets written about on the back pages rather than in lucrative OK magazine deals. Giggsy can still frighten the life out of premiership defenders at the age of 36 and can score goals when needed. I've seen him play many times and he's as awesome today as he was a fresh-faced 17 year old. Ryan Giggs - Step forward amongst the United legends - Edwards, Charlton, Best, Law, Robson, Cantona, Keane, Scholes.

THE X FACTOR - THE END IS NIGH

The X Factor finally comes to an end after what seems like a year of karaoke and usual ego-busting, centre-stage shananigans from the judges. Thank goodness no more Saturday nights of over-hyped, weeping youths who are 'on a journey' and 'owned that stage'. Thank God no more Jedward, no more Cheryl's new hairdo, Dannii's new hairdo, Simon's new teeth, Sinitta's slightly obscure dresses, copious crying from the contestants and judges, Dermot O'Dreary, incoherent youths screaming out 40 year old records (Twist and Shout sung by Olly?), and the guest singers- my God, who can forget Whitney's comeback??
Quite frankly I don't care who wins. It does bother me that Britain's Got Talent starts very soon and here we go again on a journey......

VIRGIN BLOGGER

The virgin blogger has landed! At last, an outlet for my grumpy old git rants and sounding off about all sorts of things. There'll be loads of wittering about the sorts of things in life which make our lives either great or totally shit. TV programmes, football, celebrities, bad manners, shopping, food, chocolate, sex, Bruce Forsyth's wig.... the list is endless of topics which will be scrutinised and talked about in detail. Your comments are really welcome and will make it much more interesting, so get writing in.....