Scrape scrape scrape.

That's the sound of me scraping the bottom of the barrel. To be honest, it could be the sound of me scraping many things. But today, it's the barrel. Only ten posts in and I have NO IDEA what I should write about.
I was gonna rattle on about my Christmas. Maybe upload half a dozen photos, list off all the wonderful people I spent time with. Eh, no.
I was gonna set out my year. I've a busy year. Two weddings, a skydive and a trip to California. I was gonna talk about this. Not today.
I was gonna review a film or two, maybe a game. But again, no drive. Then, as I walked home yesterday evening from a busy day buying shelves and eating Big Macs, it hit me. My purpose. Tomorrow, I told myself, I would review apples.
Brave, I know, but stay with me. It's the new year. People are panicking. Nicotine patches are flying off the shelves, McDonalds are pushing the salad option and half of HMV's shelves have Davina Mc-fucking-Call on them.
An easier option would be to just eat more apples. BUT WHICH ONES?
Now you're talking.
That's the flimsiest excuse for a blog post I've ever had. But sur' I'm halfway there, lets kick on and upload some pictures:

Apple 1- Braeburn.
Braeburn's a fine starter apple. You can get a bag of them in any half decent supermarket. They're not a pretty apple, mind. You won't pull women eating Braeburns. I'll show you prettier apples later on, but this is definitely a good apple to start with if you're new to this whole fruit and veg thing.
Taste-wise, it won't knock your socks off (your ankles are too fat for that, maybe you need to eat more apples), but it's a safe bet. Like if someone sent you out for cereal and you came back with Corn-Flakes. They wouldn't tell you to keep the change like if you came back with Cheerios, but they wouldn't tell you to go fuck a lawnmower like if you came back with All-Bran. It's a safe apple. It's probably fed to people on life support.
(It's worth mentioning that, while you'd get to keep the change if you came back with Cheerios, there'd be significantly less change. It's not a black and white decision.)

Apple 2- Golden Delicious
You know something? As I was thinking about writing this earlier today, I was looking forward to it. I was looking forward to listening to a Chemical Brothers album and tapping away at my keyboard whilst sipping green tea. I thought up the above cereal analogy while waiting for the printer to print a prescription and smiled to myself. (I rarely smile to anyone else.) But then I thought of something. And my smile vanished. Remember, it was an inside smile. The chap waiting for his prescription didn't notice a thing. I'm a professional, like.
Anyway, the reason my smile vanished was I remembered I've have to buy a golden delicious apple to write this thing. I hate golden delicious apples. I hate their colour. It's a sickly, jaundiced yellow. It's like a faded high-vis jacket a tramp wears while pissing in a bin.
It tastes like a potato pretending it's an apple. It's all flourey and sweet and, blah. Get this thing off my table.
I said a braeburn apple was like coming home from the shop with Cornflakes. A golden delicious is like coming home with a wheelie bin full of dead crows.
IT'S THAT BAD.

Apple 3- Gala
Gala apples, like their name suggests, are a bit of fun. Never too big .You can hide a gala apple in your sock if you're trying to sneak an apple into a shindig. Carry a big obnoxious apple in your hand (That gimpy dope of a golden delicious above is a good fall guy, nobody cares if he finds his way into a bin.) They'll take that and presume you're now appleless, leaving you free to ride the bouncy castle and have a cheeky apple in the jacks.
They're a good looking apple, too. Redder than braeburns above. Not a whole lot of difference in taste. Not as far as I can tell, anyway. I'm not great at tasting things, like. Every glass of red wine I've put down my trap has been "not bad", "fruitey" and, if I'm really pushed for another adjective, "red".
That said, there's one apple that stands out proud from the rest. Let's bring in the granddaddy. Or, rather...

Apple 4- Granny Smith
Oh yes. This is why we're all here. If you're brave enough, tackle this beast of an apple. Anything decent that's apple flavoured is Granny Smith flavoured. (I'm going solely on Mickey Finns apple sours and applejack sweets). Colour-wise, it's downright electrifying. It glows in the dark.
It's not going to apologise for being green.
Fuck you, you apologise for not being green. That's what I it might say.

Granny Smith apples are like going to the shop for cereal and coming back with STRIPPERS.

ONE WARNING, though. There's a very fine line between a big Granny Smith apple (Jackpot!) and a cooking apple. Usually, cooking apples are ugly lumps of things that look like they've been beat with the leg of a table and granny smiths are, well, just lovely. But you can, and do occasionally, get a good looking cooking apple. If it happens, just go with it. It's like a rodeo, it'll try to throw you, but if you keep at it you'll be proud as fuck. You just ate a cooking apple. See all those people clapping? That's for you. Now pick yourself up off the floor of the bus, it's your stop.