I enjoyed a drizzling Saturday of 0.005% vol mulled wine at Winchester Cathedral Christmas market where I was kettled in a small square and forced to walk clockwise past sheds of shit (hand crafted and bespoke shit, I will have you know) with the odd festive temper flare up caused by the crush and demands of spouses. All in all it was arse. Coming home, I noticed that the family who celebrated Halloween a month in advance have erected a small Christmas tree on their front patch of mud. It has also been electrified to stop my dog pissing on it (cunts).
Why? Surely extending a one day holiday to over a month destroys the joy (or misery, whichever way you look at it).
I know for a fact that my Jolly Christmas is going to involve a slap up meal at an old people’s home with a number of people who have no idea who I am, or who they are, or what the whole thing is about. Then, just to spice things up, I will go over and visit my Mrs’s extended family and chat with the men (our only thing in common being the fact we have bollocks)
Oh shit. I will probably have a couple of old ladies with parrot-like tongues try and snog me too.
I am so looking forward to the coming shit fest and the disappointment of gifts that I neither want, or need (or can store) Oh yes, and buying presents. I have to buy for two teenagers…What the fuck can I get them? I am thinking butterfly knives or crossbows, but their parents and the Mrs will veto any such present.
Nominated by lord benny