Don't mention the 'C' word ... at least for another year
Christmas already feels a million miles past, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. After weeks gearing up for what is essentially handing out a few gifts followed by an excessively big dinner it’s all over in a matter of hours. Let’s face it, by 6 o’clock on Christmas evening most of us are knackered, bloated, and have hit a sugar rush peak not just from too much Christmas pudding, but from an excess of bubble-gum sweetness that oozes out of every pore of the occasion. The comforting glow from watching ET for the 153rd time on Christmas Eve turns to irritation when the television is still dishing up technicoloured Disney schmaltz on New Year’s Eve. I’m not suffering from a sort of delayed Ebenezer Scrooge syndrome, but there is only so much saccharine I can take. So it’s good I had a few whinges up my sleeves to contribute to the festive viewing. Namely a couple of shows where journos, celebs and various pundits vent their spleen about the things that irri...