I had plans to make you something sophisticated for Christmas Eve Eve. But nothing sophisticated, literary or Nigella’d could ever be as life-affirmingly Christmassy as these six singing chickens:
n.b. you may also enjoy Classical Chicken (wholly suitable for vegetarians).
The BBC doesn’t share its website comedy collection, but today’s offering consists of two brilliant Christmas clips, both with a slightly office-y theme. This is because today is Friday, the last working day before Christmas for many in mysterious office jobs, and thus I fondly imagine everyone photocopying their anatomy and engaged in heroically drunken snogging. This is probably because I’ve never properly worked in an office.
Anyway, first up is Gavin and Stacey, when Gavin, promoted to a new job in Cardiff, goes to see Santa. Also starring: Neil. The Baby.
The second is the original (by which I mean “one true”) version of The Office: the final episode. The Christmas party. Tim and Dawn. Martin Freeman as the adorable prototype of every character he would ever play, and Lucy Davis as Dawn, who deserved better but never got it. Until this clip. Merry Christmas!
…but awesome (thank you, XKCD). I may slightly mistrust Skype (or rather, keep forgetting it exists) but otherwise I welcome our Web 3.0 overlords. Mostly. This post was brought you by the discovery that my friend Emily (erstwhile cast member, poet, noted beauty & author of American Amazon) has an underwater mp3 player. PROBABLY THESE ARE WELL-KNOWN TO YOU. Probably I am being like Adam Lambsbreath in Cold Comfort Farm when Flora offers to upgrade him to a little mop with which to wash the dishes (he’s previously used a stick. Go with me). But I had never heard of underwater mp3 players, and should they turn out to be made by Apple, I’m going to have to invoke the Mad TV iPhone sketch.
And who would you listen to? The choice would have to be made carefully. Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On might suit masochists in unheated pools. Nothing too grim, though, or you might decide to stay down there. I’d also have to rule out Jeff Buckley, for obvious reasons. Perhaps you’re better off with Disney? What about Yellow Submarine? I thought my top choice would be Pure Shores, but I was 13 the last time I heard it, and it’s, well, a lot more shit than I remember (or perhaps it’s just the scary Blair Witch video. Actually, if you have a spare five years and a fist with which to muffle your hoots, just YouTube the All Saints back catalogue. The video for Never Ever is one of the funniest ever made. That bulldog’s the child of a broken home!).
I don’t want to visit the Moon or wear a silver jumpsuit (or, indeed, live through a parabolic plane arc for weightlessness), but now part of me really does want to swim underwater while listening to Bach. Or audiobooks. Though, should a read version exist, Chuck Palahniuk’s Guts should definitely stay off shuffle…. [for god’s sake, don’t google if squeamish. Mum, I cannot overstate how much this means you. Nightmares. Worse than Criminal Minds, I promise.]
Anyway. What would you listen to, while swimming (Em, if you read this, what do you listen to)?
Also, if you could have any gadget, which would it be?