One of the digital radio stations (BBC6) is running a poll to find the top 100 singles of 2006. It’s simple for me: Shapeshifters’ Incredible. It’s not the best song ever written, but it’s fuckin’ ace and it’s my number one for this year. So I went to their website to vote and was disappointed to see that I have to choose FIVE singles to vote.

I can’t think of 5 records that came out this year. Load of rubbish.

Pan’s Labyrinth
This is a pretty scary fantasy horror that’s set in the backdrop of the last days of the Spanish Civil War. A fairytale-obsessed little girl, Ofelia, moves with her mother to be with her new stepfather – a vicious cunt of a general/commander/el big cheesio in Franco’s army. The army command post is near an ancient and mystical labyrinth where Ofelia is guided by a fairy to a scary faun who gives her three tasks that will enable her to retake her rightful position as princess in the underworld kingdom.

Scary monsters, scarier men. Definitely worth a watch.

Nice weather
The weather is fucking hideous – bloody tornadoes and torrential rain. I was surprised to get a text message from Connie, telling me that she was going to the seaside to have a look at these today:

I replied asking if she was mad and had she not heard the hurricane and apocalyptic weather during the night – “Haven’t you seen the forecast??”

I got a phonecall from her telling me that they’d almost got to the end of the path to the beach, but had been beaten back by swirling winds that was blinding them and whipping up sand. Surprising that.

I only went outdoors to get to and from my car on the journey back from Trump’s. Call me nesh, I call it survival instinct.

Bearing in mind that my folks are retired, what do you think possessed them to go into Manchester to experience the Christmas Markets on a Saturday afternoon? “They were very nice, but ever so crowded”. Surprising that, Mother.

On a festive note
OK, latest festive pics. No sign of our decs going up yet, but I might make my cake this week.

I’ve no idea how old I was when this photo of me and Bomb was taken with the scariest Father Christmas EVER! You can see the fear in our eyes (and the malevolence in his), I was struggling to get away from the sinister old bastard in Kendal’s Christmas Grotto.

Just a couple of shots from the Christmas market again. Oh those lights in the trees are so lovely!

Me and Trump are probably getting her tree next week. Can’t wait. What I CAN wait for is having to go into my own loft to retrieve our own decs. Fucking spiders don’t care about the festive season; they’ll scare the shit out of you all year round for the fun of it, the eight-legged cunting terrorists.