Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Ins and Outs: Christmas 2016




Christmas time, Morecambe and Wise. Children drinking fortified wine. 

2016, eh? A rum bugger of a year and no mistaking, what? Terrorist attacks, Aleppo, Jo Cox, Bowie, Prince, Leonard Cohen, Brexit, Trump, and that fat sack of turds Allardyce keeping Sunderland up at the expense of dear old Newcastle United. 

 Still, we battle on. And what better at this festive time than the list that tells you who's a bit of alright and who's a little alt-right? Want to delineate your Festive Bake from your Daniel Blake, your tinnies from Oddbins and your shit from Kate Hopkins? 

 Then step lively, ducks, because Ins and Outs am here! 

 In


Upon one of your dreadful mates displaying any knowledge of 'modern' music, pointedly asking them "Who are yee, like, Jason Status?" 

Original Source's coconut shower gel. Smells that good that it's a struggle to refrain from licking oneself for the rest of the day. 

Weeping salty tears of regret as the credits rolled on the final BBC episode of 'Bake Off'. Televised baking contests will never be the same again. Inspiring times to be alive. 

Having decided it may be time to get one's golf clubs out for a knockabout, performing this act with all the reverent ceremony of a retired gunslinger strapping on his holster and six-shooters. 

Getting your daft cow friends on social media to collect the wire hoods from their prosecco bottles on the pretext that they can be sent to the starving Africans for use as dental braces. 

Smiliingly telling the GLW that her trip to the beauty parlour to get her eyebrows done has left here with a very fetching resemblance to Rossy de Palma. 

The realization that you never see blokes with centre partings these days. Back in the 90s you couldn't move for them. Not now. 

The Housemartins. A Great Band. 

When a public house blowhard finishes telling you a lengthy, self-serving anecdote, solemnly telling them "You're really quite the man!". 

Informing friends and family that you aren't sending Christmas cards this year, and that you will be spending the money saved on drink. 

Teachers who refuse to be disheartened by their school's poor showing in the Government's league tables, instead hoping for a good run in the cup. 

Walking through a newly opened, posh, Lidl store, thinking that this must be what the shops in Heaven are like. 

Voguish Scandinavian drama "Modus". Championship fare when compared with the Killings and Bridges of this world, but enjoyable enough. 

Seeing somebody on telly who has become famous for making YouTube videos. Fair play to them, they must be really good videos. 

The vast majority of former dart player Tweets. Yes, by all means, Eric Bristow, but where are the plaudits for Leighton Rees' incisive coverage of Brexit, Cliff Lazarenko's insights into the recent US Presidential election, or Bob "Limestone Cowboy" Anderson's frank opinions on 'Weather Girls Who I'd Give One To'? #warmfront 

Drinking too much on a Sunday teatime and finding next day that you've tried to vote twenty-eight times for that bird-eating Catfish to win X-Factor. 

Hardworking stay-at-home mums, finding time in their busy schedule to share informative memes from TheTwistyCowBlog, YeahIHaveKidsMe.com, and MommyNeedsDiazepam.net, while her bairn has been despatched to the corner shop with a note requesting Tampax and ten Regal. 

On the occasion of one of your mates turning up dressed smartly in shirt and tie, referring to them continually as The Chicken Connoisseur and asking them to recommend a good place for 'wings'. 

Cordially inviting Debra from Business Support to "hit me up on my pager, maybe I'll break you off sumt'n" before realising that i) You aren't a 1980s rapper, and ii) your workplace Charity Bake Sale is not an ideal forum for attempting to catch you some poontang. 

Stating that you will later on be going out for a drink. "OR TEN!" You fucking legend. Ten pints? That's a crazy amount of drinks. 


Out 

 'Game of Thrones' enthusiasts. Into swordfights, battles, dragons, and the possibly ill-advised depiction of sexual violence? Not for nothing, but people like that were bullied in the 80s and 90s, and made to drink in greaser bars with the other weirdos. The world was a better place for it too. 

 People who highly rated the new material of The Stone Roses. Proof positive that having a daft Herman's Hermits haircut or a flowerpot hat on your head impairs one's hearing. 

Friends and family members who were straining at the leash to vote for Brexit, outraged that the EU is trying to prevent them using off-colour racial epithets when describing their choice of takeaway meals. 

Eateries that have 'slaw' on their menu when they actually mean coleslaw. 'nts'. 

Acquaintances who are shocked - shocked! - to find that not every game in the Championship is televised and analysed in the same painstaking manner as every EPL Premier League of Soccer fixture. 

Being firmly of the opinion that we are living in a golden age of big-tit pornography, yet having nobody with whom to discuss this weighty matter. 

Nationwide's adverts with poems in them. Shit poems. Grown adults acting excited over their advent calendars. For shame. 

"Bridget Jones' Baby". One low quality film, right there. Spoiler alert; unfortunately, she doesn't die during childbirth. 

Anybody using the ghastly internet phrase "said no one ever" in real life. 

Excessive and unnecessary use of away kits. 

Any use of three 'crying with laughter' emojis. The deployment of these gurning pictographs only highlights the disparity between the perceived comedy gold being proferred and the banal reality. For example an, at best, moderately diverting picture of a surprised pet. 

Taking hipster beard shitcuntery to another level with the introduction of an 'ironic' waxed RAF moustache into the mix. 

Killer Whales. Not really whales, not really killers. Two-bob pretend hard cunts of the sea, that's what they are. 

Online end of year "Best of" music lists. A set of middle-aged cunts pretending to like Drake. FTS. 

While verbally jousting, telling your adversary that at B & Q, their mother 'would be found under Outdoor & Garden, Garden Hand Tools & Equipment, Rakes Weeding and Clearing. i.e. she's a hoe!' Far too unwieldy. 

Driving while full of drink. Not only socially unacceptable, but there's an ever-increasing risk of running over some dimwit in the road, tanked up on Jaegerbombs and gawping at smartphones. 

Mingebags driving around in big-ass Audis, but too tight to get their headlight fixed. 

Breitbart.com. Shitebart.com more like! 

The fool, who describes any task as having been 'smashed' when it has, in fact, been 'completed satisfactorily, more or less'.

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