There are some things in my life that are so maddening that they render me speechless and bordering on apoplexy. I’m sure that you too dear reader, find yourself swearing through gritted teeth while being confronted with some of life’s more frustrating obstacles. Here’s an example from my recent past for you to peruse which, I’m sure, will have you nodding furiously in agreement – just like the Laird when he’s been asked if he’d like another drink.

Corned beef. I love corned beef, especially when it’s served up with mashed tatties and beans. We used to get this epicurean extravaganza on a regular basis for school dinners at Leith Walk Primary. We all sat on benches at tables that could accommodate eight hungry nippers. When the corned beef was served up, we’d mash it all together and then drag our forks through the melange to make “a ploughed field” – it’s something that I still do to this day. That bloke Proust had his madeleines, (those poncey French cakes which look like scallop shells and taste like, well, a sponge cake) which triggered his over-indulgent, saccharine, philosophising – well he was French – and I’ve got my corned beef field.

The proper behaviour throughout the holiday period is to be drunk at all times. And who am I to argue?...

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To this day, it reminds me of Mrs Sutherland, a big, brassy, blousy woman with the most vibrant red lipstick that you could possibly imagine, who supervised us at table. She used to have a whistle around her neck and would give one shrill blast to stop us all screaming “its corned beef, its corned beef!” She would then signal the beginning of the Lord’s Prayer, which we said as grace, and then another blast would herald the arrival of the food. Two slabs of corned beef, two ice-cream scoops of mashed tatties and a pile of baked beans which, from the bubbling tomato sauce and billowing clouds of steam coming off them, looked like they’d been cooked in the bowels of hell. Fab.

So what’s the beef with corned beef nowadays I hear you ask? Have you ever tried to open a tin of the stuff lately? Let me tell you, my neighbours must think that I’m a raving lunatic given the stuff which comes out of my mouth when I’m trying to twist that little feckin’ key round the bottom of the tin. Once that snaps off, well that’s it. It’s no longer a tin. Have you ever actually threatened a tin of corned beef with impending violence? I have. I’ve actually said to a tin of corned beef, “that’s it you ******* little piece of shit, I’m going to saw you open, you dizzy little ******!” Politicians fiddling their expenses, bankers shafting everyone left, right, centre, and then left again? Climate change? Frankly, I don’t give a toss. It’s almost 2010 and we still don’t have an easily accessible corned beef tin. What would Proust say?
“As I gazed upon that instantly recognisable legend from days and memories long forgotten, ‘Fray Bentos’, my knees weakened and I could smell the lavender and chip fat upon Mrs Sutherland’s blouse. I laid the table and prepared to indulge my senses in the heady sweetness of scorched beans, scoops of mash and the sweet, marbled heaven of the beef.

Unable to open the tin I wept and telephoned Shapla for a curry.”

Enough of my rambling, it’s almost 2010 and in time-honoured tradition, here are a few tips for the new year in which you might like to invest a few of your hard-earned spondoolicks.

The General Election – if you’re lucky, you’ll still be able to get a bet on it being a March election. The Labour government has narrowed the Tories lead in the opinion polls and if they go for an early election they’ll avoid having to produce the harshest budget in terms of public spending in living memory. It’s not an election that anyone particularly wants to win given the economic climate and I’ve already had a few quid on it being a hung parliament with the Tories having a small majority.

If the Tories do have a small majority at Westminster they’ll have to negotiate with one of the other parties in order to pass any legislation. It won’t be the Labour party so the Lib Dems may be the party with most to gain from a hung parliament. That might impact on things at Holyrood. If the Lib Dems hold sway at Westminster, then the Scottish wing of the party might see advantages of climbing into bed with the Scottish Nationalists, especially if the traditional Scottish backlash against the Tories takes hold. Take the Scottish National Party to win the Scottish election in 2011 – the Labour party in Scotland is a shambles and won’t be able to hold a candle to the Nationalists as they battle with the Westminster government.

Finally, it’ll soon be March so take Zaynar to win the Champion Hurdle at Cheltenham; Voy Por Ustedes to win the Ryanair Chase; and Imperial Commander to win the Gold Cup.

And remember, as P.J O’Rourke says, the proper behaviour all through the holiday season is to be drunk. This drunkenness culminates on New Year’s Eve, when you get so drunk you kiss the person you’re married to.