Marmite

This blog title sounds like the opening salvo of a Boxing Day football score, something like: ‘Forest City 1 –  Meadow Town 0’. Except it’s not. Forest City 1 (FC1) is actually the uninspiring moniker of a mega-development concept spearheaded by a former Guardian journalist in partnership with a 28-year-old something-or-other and backed by a one-time Labour Secretary of State. I’m tempted to stop now but, in the seasonal spirit of following a star in the hope it’ll lead me to the promised land, I’ll persevere. For now. 

About a year ago, I penned a semi-tongue-in-cheek blog entitled Happy New Year . Judging by the polarised reactions from respective political camps it was one of my best, so I thought I’d emulate it here, complete with a one-size-fits-all trigger warning for the congenitally perpetually outraged and offended. Here then are just a few recipients of a big beautiful Merry Christmas from yours truly.

As a youngster, I never did drugs. Or cigarettes. Maybe the occasional vodka and lime. I now think I missed out. Coming round in a hospital recovery room (I was cared for by a combination of NHS and private – highly recommended) pain-free despite being pricked, gassed, punctured, bored, blown, syphoned, sliced and sewn, I appreciated the positives of downers and uppers, opiates and OMGs and, last but not least, PFAS – also known as ‘forever chemicals’. May they last forever.