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Thursday, 8 December 2011

Following The Mozziah Day 85 Thursday 8th December 2011

My Christmas is ruined, let me explain. Inspired by the John Lewis advert, I had decided that this year, rather than make Christmas all about me, I would think of others, well, The Mozziah at any rate. Think not what your Mozziah can do for you, but what you can do for your Mozziah. So I set about thinking what to buy a man I don't actually know or have ever met. I suppose it's no different for all the millions throughout the western world who have to rack their brains to think what to buy for all the Aunts, Uncles, Nephews, Nieces etc without really having a clue what they like or what they are in to. It's commercialism for the sake of it and hundreds of thousands of unwanted, unnecessary presents, go to waste in the wrong arms. However, I felt far more equipped to buy for The Mozziah than ANY of my relatives, not that I DO buy for any of them, I mean what is the POINT? As I've already said, I wouldn't have a clue what to buy them and I don't even speak to half of them, no that's not true, I don't speak to ANY of them. Christmas is silly, but The Mozziah is different, I really feel like I KNOW him, he's like Princes Diana. I know what he likes for breakfast, what music he listens to, what films he likes, what writers he likes etc etc etc. I've not only read so much about him, but have now ended up writing about him every day for the past two and a half months, which by the way, was never meant to have happened, this obsession should never have got to this point, all I did was stumble across a website and here we are, nearly three months later and I'm bashing out drivel on a daily basis and we're still no nearer 'Blue Rose', 'Red Rose', 'White Rose' or even 'Axel Bloody Rose' for that matter. I'm just waiting for a conclusion so that I can stop all this and go back to a normal life. Surely Chicago? Surely? Anyway, there's no point dwelling on it, it would appear that for now, I'm stuck here, mid obsession, so let's get on with Christmas. My first thought was to buy The Mozziah a nice piece of vinyl from the sixties or seventies, but of course, that would have been pointless, The Mozziah will no doubt own all the records he likes and would quickly dismiss the recommendation of a nobody like me. My second thought was to tap into his wit, so I considered purchasing a 'Tickle Me Elmo', but quickly dismissed that, far too expensive! A 'Rapunzel Doll's Tower'? Don't be ridiculous, you can't get hold of one of those for love nor money, no, it finally came to me, what does The Mozziah need more than anything in the whole world? A belt. Yep, ever since the tour started, I've been watching all the Youtube footage and the one thing I noticed, more than the songs, the set or anything else, was that dangly piece of string hanging from The Mozziah's midriff, his trousers were bereft of a belt. This is obviously not fitting for a man of The Mozziah's stature, and one can only presume that Boz or one of the boys had played a practical joke on The Mozziah, and stolen his belt. The things these boys get up to on tour eh? So anyway, yesterday afternoon, with a spring in my step and a new purpose to life, I nipped down to 'Retro Belts R Us' in my local High Street, to look at their range of stretchy snake belts. I was torn between the blue one and the red, so opted for green. As I was stood at the counter ready to pay, my gaze was drawn to the collection of satin scarves, the ones that everyone used to tie to their wrists in the early 70's, and there it was, a 'Sparks' one, next to the 'Bay City Rollers' and 'Kenny'. Perfect, instead of just buying a belt, I was thinking outside the box, a 'Sparks' satin scarf to use as a belt. He'd be over the moon. I made my purchase and even paid extra to have it gift wrapped. So that was that, Christmas sorted for another year, or so I thought, until this morning when, during my usual daily routine, I flicked on to Youtube to watch last night's concert in Mexico City, and there, bold as brass, the bastard's wearing a belt, ungrateful git.

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