Christmas Family Newsletters

Won’t be long now until I receive my annual update on the life of my appalling cousin. She is a retired Doctor of Mentals (Was that an official title? – NA) and even when I was younger couldn’t stand her nosiness ( always wondered if the bitch was angling to have me committed) and pompous,strident manner.

Thankfully she no longer attempts to ring me after I told her to Fuck Off in no uncertain terms when she attempted to mediate between myself and a relative who accused me of some rather devious actions regarding the will of a dead relative ( he was actually quite right but couldn’t prove a fucking thing….he’s dead now too…thank fuck.) (That needs to be expanded upon – NA)

Anyhow…back to my nom…..she still sends every Christmas a record of the “highlights” of her year…being a Doctor she is reasonably well off and,if I can decipher the poorly photocopied pages, seems to know how to spend it…holidays,cars and most bizarrely of all a fucking motorhome. The humbleboast words are accompanied by smudged photos of the old Trout leering out at various locations….one only a few miles away from me but at least she had more sense than call in.

I’m guessing that she sends the same impersonal letter to everyone at Christmas…why bother?…I certainly don’t care what she’s done but if I was actually someone who had any time for the sanctimonious bitch,I’d certainly expect something a bit more personal than a photocopied boastfest.

Still,to look on the bright side,she can’t live much longer….hope the evil old trout doesn’t leave me the fucking motor-home in her will as some kind of twisted joke…it’s just the kind of thing a true Fiddler would do.

Nominated by: Dick Foxchaser-Fiddler

150 thoughts on “Christmas Family Newsletters

  1. I must be lucky, as I don’t think I’ve ever received one of these ‘Round Robins’, as I’ve heard them called.
    Compost bin if I ever do.

    Afternoon Dick.

    • I Ron, on the other hand, get one of these every year from a second cousin.
      Fuck me, I need to speak to the Samaritans after reading them as they are so boring. They are a church going family with an allotment and a love of hill walking. You can tell it is a riveting read.

      • I knew a couple with a holiday cottage in Wales. Whilst I have no problem with Wales (livi g in Cardiff), I wouldn’t keep going to the same place year in, year out. Boring as fuck. Even if I stuck to Portugal, Greek Islands, Italy, Vienna and a few other places, that’s a lot more fun.

    • True. I don’t know whether anybody ever sends a reply to these things.
      Maybe Fiddler will let us in on the content of his response…

      • I never reply,Ron…never send a card or anything…I think her trouble is that she sees herself as some kind of matriarch and believes that she is the steadying influence in a clan of,she’s an interfering,nosy bitch…I suspect the old trout hopes to scupper me by devious means…she won’t.

      • Did the thought ever cross your mind Lord Fiddler that she’s on ISAC stalking you?watching your every word, compiling a dossier. It could be anyone on here…

      • That’s why I’m careful to never say anything on here that might make me appear unbalanced,BH.

      • Oh I don’t know Dick. I presume she doesn’t know the alias you use on here, in which case your best bet is to appear unbalanced and then you will disappear into the crowd with the rest of us loonies.

      • “I suspect the old trout hopes to scupper me by devious means…”

        Sounds a bit of olde victorian ‘poisoner’ Dick. She’ll be down the apothacary’s for a bottle of “Dr. Scrotters radium specific” and a phial of “flowers of arsenic” …so if yer kedgeree tastes a bit funny one morning…

  2. Decades ago, my ex and I used to get such a missive from a pair of identical twins, let’s call them, for argument’s sake (and libel laws!) Legal Eagle and Culture Vulture. Just a monumental yawn-fest of boasting, and proof, if it were needed, that da wimminz are the worst snobs.
    I once phoned their land-line, and something went wrong with their answering machine. It started regurgitating their private conversations to me, including an absolute gem of how one had blagged freebie theatre tickets for some pretentious heap of luvvie wank. True Hendon style, Oy Vey!

  3. Tell her if she doesn’t cease and desist she’ll be hearing from your solicitors in the morning.

      • Afternoon Dick.

        In that case let the police to deal with her. She’s clearly committed a Non-crime Hate Incident, today’s police treat that sort of thing extremely seriously. A squad will be round her gaff in no time, don’t you worry.

      • Where I live (the yoo-ess-ayy) Christmas is banned and talking about it is a hate crime. Coming to Britain soon I suspect so next Christmas, sorry, Kwanzaa, you’ll be able to nail her for actual hate crime.

      • BH – I see you’re also a resident of Yankland like myself. Greetings or as they say around these parts, “How-de y’all”. Jeez. Where about in the States are you? I’m near Dallas (or Dall-arse as I like to call it) in good ‘ol Texas.

        Will you be celebrating Indian Ethnic Cleansing Day tomorrow? Being a Brit, it’s just a day off for me. Couldn’t give a rats’ about the holiday itself.

        I actually thought these Christmas newsletter things was an American invention. I’d never heard of them before. A bit like family reunions. What a crock of shit they are too. Yikes. Time for another cuppa. Cheers – IY.

      • It’s because professional Yanks have a tendency to live quite a long way from each other, as the US is huge. It was a way for busy families to keep in touch, especially as phone communications were often difficult.
        It’s been adopted by a certain level of UK nationals, generally those who are either paid more than their abilities suggest, or have been promoted above their abilities.
        They can’t believe their luck, so they have to validate their existence by sending out a ” Seasons Greetings” round robin.
        One has to pity them. The day I have to try to make someone envy me is arriving never.

      • Indeed IY, I do reside stateside. A blue state in the The North East, so woke central. I don’t like to be more specific because occasionally I’m a little rude about my hosts. Not the ordinary everyday septics I should say but the political class, but they’re the dangerous ones. Don’t want to find myself in Gitmo for suggesting on ISAC that trans women aren’t for example. For the most part everyday Septics are decent folk and I’ve never felt unwelcome. Though In the current circumstances I envy you in TX, a 12 gauge and an AR15 sounds like a good idea right now.

        As for Thanksgiving, it’s just a couple of days off for me. Crap timing though, couldn’t they have chosen Summer to land on Plymouth rock? I almost did a nom on Thanksgiving but thought better of it.

        One reason I come to ISAC is for the uniquely British brand of banter you get here that you just can’t find in the states. If I casually called someone a cunt here people would sue me. They don’t understand that it can be a term of endearment!

      • BH –
        You’re right about the banter. There’s often comedy gold to be found on these pages. I’m also a bit pathetic in admitting I get most of my news from ISAC now. I can’t deal with the MSM anymore. I used to watch a bit of Fox News, but Tucker Carlson scares the shit out of me with what he uncovers and talks about. Hannity starts every show with an alarmist hold-your-breath “breaking news” segment where some dastardly plot has been uncovered that will send shockwaves across the nation and it’s curtains for the perps. And then nothing happens and whoever did what they did gets away with it and nothing more is said. Just like always. Laura Ingraham seems the most sane, but by the time she’s on I’m doing something else and can’t be arsed. I wouldn’t mind a go on her though.

        Anyway, happy giving of thanks. Cheers – IY.

      • I agree with your views on Ms I.
        I would happily cement Anglo-American relations, with Laura.
        Every day & twice on Sunday😀👍

      • Evening IY.

        I like a bit of Fox News too, Greg Gutfeld’s monologues are actually pretty good if a little uncouth sometimes for my refined British wit.

      • Cheers IY, I too get much of my news from ISAC, I find it a more authoritative source! Besides, I see the MSM as the enemy and don’t like to feed the beast. I do miss some of the news bimbo talking heads though, can be very easy on the eye.

        Likewise happy giving of thanks and Black Lives Matter Friday where the stores of ‘progressive’ blue states are traditionally looted. Still, only a few shopping days left til Kwanzaa so needs must I suppose.

      • Evening LL.

        How you doing? Gutfeld can be pretty funny. I used to watch a Fox show called The Five when Kimberly Guilfoyle was on it. Everyday I prayed so hard the Fox cameraman would get his angles wrong and we’d see up her short dress. Alas…

        Anyway, Gutfeld was on The Five and would wind up some lefty POS called Juan Williams. Total cunt. I think Gutfeld’s own show on Fox is on Saturday nights. I’m always busy on Saturdays fucking super models and snorting crack. I could record it I suppose.

        BH – Now you mention Black Lives Matter Friday, I missed a trick there. I used to live not far from Minneapolis. I totally moved at the wrong time. It’s great there now because everyone gets to shop for free. Just show up, take what you want and walk off with it. Apart from dodging the hail of bullets, rocks and Molotov cocktails, it’s a shoppers paradise.

    • IY, though the state sanctioned looting may have its advantages I see more downsides in Omar’s islamic republic of Minnesota. I assume Sharia is just around the corner. I think you called it right with TX. I’m trying to figure out how to get to Texas or Florida too.

      • Bloody hell, Blair looks fucking demented! Just think, that’s probably the best of the photos taken.
        Plain creepy.
        You have to be a right cunt to send anybody a card with your picture on it to start with.

    • Yhe comment about the teeth following you around the room is pure class.!

      My Da used to get cards from the Maxwell clan. They were pretty bloody scary, too.

  4. Bloke I used to work with got one of these every year from some nerd he used to work with years before. It was actually written by his wife (whom he had never met) photocopied with “Dear…….” at the top with the name written in ink.
    We used to sit around while he read it out using funny voices and ripping the piss out of the pompous cunts. We used to piss ourselves, it was the highlight of Christmas.
    It wasn’t just about the nerd and his Mrs but also their fucking stuck up children and the in laws. His parents never got a mention. It was one long massive boast with all sorts of details about their holidays, stuff they had bought like a new clock and a BBQ set. Why they thought any cunt would be interested in this shite is beyond me. It gave us a good laugh though. What would we do without stupid fucking up their own arse cunts eh?

    • Your aunt’s reaching out to you in a gesture of goodwill,
      To mend broken fences,
      At this the season of Christmas,
      I would invite her to stay!
      Being a Fiddler must be a bit like being a Tudor?
      Someone out to poison you!
      A dagger in every shadow!
      Plotting and scheming.
      Break the curse.
      A Christmas dinner
      A shiny shilling in the pudding
      Crackers with smutty jokes
      A few drinks

      And when her guard is down push her in the slurry pit .

      • It sounds awful Miserable, like a Fiddler version of Game of Thrones. A pity for Dick its about 300 years too late to accuse her of witchcraft and have her on the village ducking stool!

      • Hi LL.
        Not arf.
        Im lucky in that any head the balls are on the missus side of the family.
        One of my aunts is ‘touched by god’ but not seen her in 40yrs.
        Mostly like my family.

  5. … well for once I really can’t complain about the receipt of such missives. No one but no one considers that I’m worthy of such things … and I am truly grateful for that. My entire family essentially disowned me from the tender age of 16. The proper black sheep of the clan I am and as a result I have no idea if any remain with the living … and I really don’t wish to know. That coupled with society looking for scapegoats gave me two options (that’s one in reality). So the military became a family of sorts … they respect the fact that Christmas can be a tough time for some so things tend to be very low key if that’s what you like … and I do.

  6. The only Round Robin Mrs Twatt and I get is from a couple of neighbours. He’s retired, she’s a top vet. He writes the RR, and every year he creams himself bragging about his missus – lectured here, attended a conference there, always in far-flung corners of the globe, hobnobbing with the great and the good in the veterinary world, isn’t she fucking marvellous blah fucking blah.
    Anyway, to cut a long story short, this year she was struck off for gross professional misconduct. Now I’m creaming myself with schadenfreude.
    I can’t wait to read this year’s Round Robin. I think I’ll frame it.

    • I bet you don’t get one this year, GT, hardly something to brag about, but oh, how I would have laughed if this had happened to someone I knew and loathed.

    • Struth, I wonder what constitutes ‘gross professional conduct’ in the veterinary world?
      I can already sense the slot machine indicators beginning to revolve in the minds of some of the more, shall we say, ‘imaginative’ types on here…

      • You beat me to it Ron, the mind boggles.

        I’m getting off this nom before someone’s bestial fantasy that I can never unread appears below.

      • To fend off the more lurid outpourings, only 2 UK top female vets were struck off this year, both for what amounts to fraud.
        No gerbils were harmed during the creation of this comment.

  7. This is why I don’t do Soshul Meeja and couldn’t stomach FaceCuntBook. Endless ‘look at me’ shites who feel obliged to let you know every facet of their life be it their joy at little Jimmy’s first day at school, their boast of a trip to a restsurant, their fury because somebody in Tesco bashed their trolley, or their posting of 128 photos regarding their paddle fucking boarding holiday.

    Pass the hemlock.

    • I’ve never heard of this ’round Robin’ thing.
      Didn’t know it existed.
      Dont think ive received a written letter in about 30 yrs.
      Are they just to brag?

      • Absolutely, MNC, a puke inducing diatribe that should be titled
        ” Me, me me, look at me!”
        not Seasons Greetings.

      • Id send one back but make it as chavvy and ghastly as possible.

        “Our Chardonnay got nits again”

        “Our shell is back in court on the 24th”

        “Environmental health still on our case”

        “Great new foodbank opened near us”

        Then invite myself round theirs for Boxing day.
        Soon stop fuckin mithering.

      • “The family have all developed ‘long COVID’ (including the dog) and are having to survive on £30K benefits this year”

  8. People who are cunts seem to think others are interested in their vacations, trips, or even daily life. News flash: we’re not.
    This is why I am not on social media at all. I don’t give shit and I don’t think others really give a shit about the plate of food just set in front of me or my dog being cute.

  9. Excellent Cunting Lord Fiddler.
    I despise braggarts-particularly churchy-types who are usually hypocrites.
    I remember my neighbours “Round-Robin” from his cousin was delivered to my house by mistake.
    I opened it (in error) and spent hour pissing myself laughing.
    Afterwards, threw the fucker in the bin, thinking that I had given my neighbour a massive early Christmas present, bu doing so😉

  10. If I ever received such a bag of turds I’d make it my mission in life to get the defective bugger locked inside a mental home for Peacefuls.

    My thoughts go out to Lord Fiddler.

    PS:Perhaps have a moat installed?

    • It’s all very upsetting,Unkle Terry…it’s the fucking motor-home that particularly offends my sensibilities.

      • I think you have not thought this through: a motor home would be just the think for “Fiddlers-rural-retreat”.
        Advertised on line as “safe-space” for single wimminz (18-30).
        An holistic retreat, with workshops on meditation, full body massage and ‘sexual-healing”.

      • but what if someone like Jack the Cunter turned up in his motorhome thinking that I was running some kind of sordid “open-air love-in”?….Oh,no…I can’t risk that type besmirching my reputation.


      • You never know when me and Ethel might turn up.
        Be vigilant, Fiddler.
        Be vigilant.😀
        Good evening.

    • Yes, & fill it with venomous reptiles, assuming you can clone enough Cabinet members.
      Raise the drawbridge!

  11. An aunt and uncle of mine used to send a Christmas card which they had made specially every year at some cost. It always featured a photo of their son and daughter taken that year.
    That would have been okay I suppose, if only their kids hadn’t looked like Wednesday and Pugsley Addams.
    Used to put me off my turkey.

  12. That Gemma Arterton bird keeps sending me disgusting pictures of herself in various outfits and naked, along with a proposal of marriage and silent obedience thereafter – I have tried telling the dozy mare I do not reside at “Fiddler Towers, Vast Country Estate, Northumberland” and sending them back but there’s no return address! 🤷‍♂️

    • We demand that these pictures be posted immediately so they can be studied with a view to expressing our universal condemnation of her actions.
      After returning from the bathroom, of course…

      • RK@ – I would never traumatise the erstwhile contributors of this fine site by sullying their eyes with such latent filth – that Arterton gal appears to have no shame – the filthy trollop!
        An upstanding young gentleman like Sir Fiddler would be well advised to avoid the attentions of this floozie!

    • Have you also got my “Bendy Wendy” blow-up doll?..if so..please feel free to keep it….guess I’ll have to apologise to the Postman too.


      • DFF@ Evening Sir Fiddler, no blow up dolls unfortunately – just those filthy pictures, a monthly case of Bushmills and lots of huge cheques from the “common agricultural policy fund” – I assumed that them delivering to “The Cave, 22 Tripe End, Yorkshire” would have given them an indicator that I am not the landed gentry intended recipient!

  13. It is with great sadness that I must report the death of over twenty migrants who were bound for Blighty.
    Stop laughing, at the back.
    Get To Fuck

    • JTC@ – Anyone got a fishing net? – be a shame to waste those £200 Nike trainers those “refugees” wear, and I can get the dogs to piss on them to get rid of that awful “dead P*ki” smell..

      • Evening Miserable – Lady C’s quaffing back the Croft original, I’m on Kronenbourg. 👍

      • Evening Ruff👍
        Sounds wonderful!
        A scene of domestic bliss.
        LL bringing in the canapes,
        The fire blazing 🔥
        Something nice on the stereo gently playing,

        Im eating syrup sponge in my undies watching GB news.

      • Waving your massive man sausage under the delightful nose of Michelle Dewbury, no doubt. 😃

      • Hehehe 😀👍

        I DO like Michelle Ruff.
        That Hull accent does it for me.

        Id cover her in mushy peas an lick her clean..

      • All those i phones at the bottom of the briney.
        ” M’Tebe can’t come to the phone right now
        …….. ”
        Evening, Vern.

    • Maybe the French navy finally bought themselves an air rifle with that 50 million quid from the jellyfish.

    • What does the Red fucking Cross say, we must take 10000 a year by helping them across.

      • Well, you didn’t need to be a genius to work out that was going to happen one day.
        Cue the finger pointing but the blame lies with Boris; he leads (? ) HMG which has done nothing to ensure that the problem was dealt with.
        Every cloud has a silver lining although I hope that no children are amongst the drowned- I don’t describe them as victims.

    • Fucking French, heartless bastards…

      About time the Frog cunts were held accountable for launching unsafe craft into the channel.

      Just wait for the fucking Labour and Libs…. Need safer routes bla, bla, bla.

      Nigel was in the channel today with GB news, I wonder if he sent an underwater missile to scuttle the boat 😂

      • Well said Jack.
        It’s getting more coverage from the Bolshies at the BBC than the Queen Mother’s funeral.
        Fuck the cunts.
        Sand flavoured fish food.

      • On a serious note, it is all down to the French, if they took back all the ones crossing the channel by boat the crossings would stop tomorrow, the silly cunts wouldn’t be heading to the beaches so everyone’s a winner.

      • Boris calling a emergency meeting of…. COBRA.
        Owww, their hard.
        Sound dead serious dont they?
        Just a bunch of old Etonians watching Pepper Pig dvds.

      • Good point actually Sick of it.

        Where are the woke cunts calling out the French for their callous disregard for life in letting them attempt the crossing?

        As for the BBC, I don’t live in Britain but I’m willing to bet that the legions of architects who’ve successfully made the crossing are completely whitewashed from the news. One capsizes and its all over the news I assume. Only a matter of time before some cunt in parliament just offers to lay on a train for the cunts through the chunnel for ‘humanitarian’ reasons. The stabby architect express

        (Okay, can we stay on topic again please. If you want to post about the latest channel disaster, either raise a nom or post on this still active Post “UK illegal immigration or ‘nothing to see here’ – Day Admin)

  14. The best round robin I ever read was written by my Dad (90 ) this year. “My son has been an utter disgrace this year. If he doesnt pull his finger out of his arse he is out on his arse.” I was 17. I pulled my finger out of my arse (eeew). Thanks Dad.

    • Christmas isn’t very popular on ISAC is it?
      But I like it!
      The smell of the tree, twinkly lights, excited little kids etc.
      And I have time off from being a spiteful, hateful little nazi.

      Im a better, nicer person at Christmas 🌲

      Goodwill to all men I say!

      “Merry Christmas ni9nogs!.”
      Moss side

      “Merry Christmas camelfuckers!”

      ” Merry Christmas you abominations!”
      Gay village.

      Spread the love…🌲🌲🧑‍🎄

      • I like giving out presents, this year I saved a load of Ruffs self published book ‘This Country is Finished : Vol 1’ from being pulped after finding them in a Portmeirion charity shop.

      • I’ll be sending out remaindered copies (the entire print run) of Fiddler’s autobiography,

        ‘The Cunting Postman Had Fucking Well Better Not Ring Twice If He Bloody Well Knows What’s Good For Him, Bastardising Wanker’

        Rescued from a wood chipper in Kielder Forest.

        Evening LL.

  15. I have the reverse problem of being told what I’m doing for Christmas via my wife’s family’s fucking WhatsApp groups that are created in an attempt to get everyone together for the ‘festive’ period. In fact, the first one popped up today. “Let’s do this”, “Let’s do that “ “ All round to ours for Boxing Day so I can show off my new kitchen/extension/facelift etc”. I’m fucking snookered as well, because if I leave the group I’m branded as a miserable cunt.

    • Someone asked me to join a whatsapp group once, told him to fuck off. No good ever came from social media. Or stupid fucking Christmas letters, if you’re a fit bird send me a picture of your tits, otherwise not fucking interested. Don’t care about little Timmy’s first day of school or your colonoscopy result. Unless they find a species of spider previously unknown to science living in your bowel. The Fiddler sphincter spider has a ring to it, just like the Fiddler crabs.

  16. Quality cunting, Mr F…have you ever been tempted to write back listing all the miserable, unpleasant occurrences and illnesses you’d like her to exerience in the coming year?
    Actually, that’s a damned tempting idea…I ought to send a couple of Christmas cards to ex-colleagues, hoping they contract Dengue fever or botulism or perhaps fall into a vat of industrial waste, like that melty fucker at the end of Robocop.

  17. I like Christmas.

    But Christmas with just me, the missus, and the dog.

    Don’t want the children round, don’t want the grandkids round making a racket.

    Certainly don’t want one of these letter writing types round.

    It costs me a fortune every year.

    Grandkids aren’t happy with a tin of Lynx Africa with a 20 pound note shoved in the box, – no they want these tablets and expensive stuff now.

    Like a cunt we buy them this stuff, and then they fall out over whose presents were the most expensive.
    This involves my children too. It’s a minefield.

    There not interested in anything mechanical or interesting,- just this tech shite that costs a fortune.

    • I’m not giving my kids owt, they’ve got enough. Grand kids getting £50.
      My Sis is getting girly stuff, she’s almost as old as me, I know what she likes.
      All the rest can fuck off. What have you done for me, lately?

      • My kids are always pleading poverty.

        One lives well beyond her means, and I’ve baled her out the shit twice. 4 bed house, two cars on the HP, and dickhead son-in-law.
        Expensive tastes in everything.
        Go to that Miller and Carter restaurant and all that bollocks.
        Gin drinking seems to be the latest craze.

        I’m expecting great-grandchildren very soon,- but I will dead before they get expensive!

      • Ungrateful, mercenary bastards!

        This year, air them all down and tell them they were all adopted, from Jewish immigrants.
        Then add, as IsAC’s minister of justice, you will henceforth be disowning them all.

        Then treat yourself instead👍

      • Dick, cut them off!
        Text them, it’s very effective.
        The bank of Dad
        The bank of Mum
        The bank of Mum and Dad
        Chose the header, add the end.
        Just went bankrupt, so fuck off!

      • They are a burden General.

        That son-in-law looks a bit foreign to me. Black hair and black eyes, swathy skin with blackheads.

        I’m suspicious of him. Hated him for years.

        He’s 55 ish and acts like he’s in his twenties.

        I hate the cunt. Goes to the golf club. I just want to club him with a nine iron.

        Treat myself? I’m looking at my trousers I’m wearing now and the gusset has completely worn away, and they have a round patch of red oxide on the knee where I knelt on the lid!

        I spend nothing on myself.

      • Two of the grandkids aren’t even kids anymore.

        They are adults.

        They should be setting themselves up now.

        One must be well in his twenties and never done a single days work since he left school.

        And he stinks. Never has a wash apparently.

        The other must be 25 and has had more jobs than I’ve had hot dinners. He’s useless.

        Both a waste of space and still stuck at home leeching off their Mum and Dad.

        My missus caves into them all the time, and I can’t be bothered to argue.

      • Dick: I started my own business well before I was 25.
        Never taken a penny off another man.
        I detest leeches.

      • Evening Mis.

        Why is it so popular?

        Who would want to smell of Africa?

        One quick puff of the tin and flies will be infesting your eyes within seconds.

        Empty the tin too quickly and you will have Ebola by Boxing Day.

  18. Not so sure about clean and harmless, Beau. The bird at 3.48 looks like she’s aching for a substantial length of colour, and hey presto she’s got 3. She’ll be mighty disappointed later when they wipe the soot off and she finds that all she’s left with are 3 pink chipolatas.

  19. Well, we get these from relatives that need to keep us ‘abreast’ of their lives and I’d much rather receive them than have to see the tossers.
    Christ alive I’d hate to actually have them over or even speak to them on the phone for that matter.
    So it’s a joy when the letter gets stuffed through the letter box and plops on the floor.
    It’s a wonderful sound.
    Nearly as good as the crackle when it gets thrown straight in the fire.

  20. I prefer Easter. Getting brighter, weather getting better, longer nights, back golfing, summer to look forward too. Christmas can suck on my hairy balls, commercialised shit where the real sentiments have long since vanished.

  21. I’m gate-crashing Lord Fiddlers Christmas “At Home”, this year.

    I will arrive early.

    It will be just like Scrooge.

    Ruff Tuff will be the ghost of Christmas past-showing his Lordship all the people he has cunted, over the years.

    Miserable will be the ghost of Christmas present-a giant jovial type (like Edward Wood-w in that film, but with more gravy😉)

    He will show his Lordship what he is missing out on, including:

    Cycling holidays
    Camper van holidays
    Party’s in Barrett housing estates
    Christmas dinner with his loving Aunty👍

    Thomas the Tank Engine as the ghost of Christmas yet to come-(because he is a skinny fucker)

    He will show a bleak future, where Fidler Towers has been turned into an Islamic training Centre and camper van showroom.

    The horses and hounds, gifted to a lesbian riding school and homosexual petting zoo, respectively.
    His Lordship, a lonely figure, in his shabbily constructed new build, on the outskirts of Gateshead.

    All because he refused to embrace the true spirit of Christmas and invite his lonely Aunty in for Christmas.

    Additional cast members:

    Cap Mag, as Jacob Marley
    Jack T.C as Bob Cratchett
    Mile Plastic as Tiny Tim

    I shall play a Rudy faced youth, whom Lord Fiddler, now a rehabilitated character, throws down a bulging purse of monies-instructing me to go and purchase the largest goose from the butchers in the village, for his Christmas spectacular 👍

    Unfortunately, the worse for wear ( a bottle of his Lordship’s Bushmils), I instead, go into the village and “goose” a large lady in the local co-op, resulting in spending Christmas Day in the local Police station😢


    • Haha, fucking brilliant, CG…particularly the casting of Marley!
      Alas, if I were the ghost of Christmas yet-to-come, there’d be no redemption nor reclamation for Ebenezer Fiddler.
      I’d show him his future alright…he’d be caught boning Sarah Moulds whilst she whipped him with her riding crop. Then, as he shot his upper-class load he’d reach out and throttle a hunt saboteur to enhance his pleasure for which he’d be arrested and tried for murder.
      His “Rittenhouse” defence would fall upon deaf ears and he’d sentenced to 20 years in the p00fiest prison in England, whereupon he’d be regularly bummed by fuzzy-wuzzies, resulting in super-AIDS and he’d die a lonely, miserable death weighing even less than me. A bleak future indeed.

  22. 🎶 Christmas is coming,
    The goose is getting fat ! 🎶
    Please put a penny,
    In the old mans hat🎶
    If you haven’t got a penny,
    A ha’penny will do,
    🎶 If you haven’t got a ha’penny,
    Then Get To Fuck, loser. 🎶

    I’m all right.

    • Not sure how true,
      And don’t want anyone to panic.
      But theres rumours of a tinfoil shortage this Christmas.

      • Fortunately I panic-bought loads from the local wholesaler, last April.
        Not only enough to wrap every turkey in Christendom, to construct every internet friendly hat in the world, also enough to sell at £100 per meter, to all the insulate Britain cunts, glued to the freezing roads, over Christmas, whilst Cressida’s woke cunt force are busy, checking cunters thinking👍

      • We’ve got loads. Give us a shout, if you’re caught short.
        And I’ll send Ethel round with a roll.
        Got a shed load of red cabbage too.
        But keep it to yourself.
        Some right scrounging cunts around here.
        Evening, MNC 👍

      • Nice one Jack👍
        Evening mate.
        I didn’t like that rumour of a shortage of ‘pigs in blankets’.
        Proper worried me that.
        Normally got nerves of steel,
        But Christmas without those little motherfuckers?
        No ta.
        So I bought loads of em.
        Filled a draw in the freezer.
        The dread I felt!
        What sort of sick mind thought that up?
        Dr Mengele wouldn’t even do that!
        Himmler wouldn’t be that cruel.
        Caligula would blush.

        Turned out to be bollocks.
        Aldis full of em.

      • What if we had a gravy shortage? I reckon I would hear the “Nooooooo!!!” from Lincs.

      • More fucking fake news. Saw the BBC spouting some shite about there being a booze shortage this Christmas all this is going to do is create more panick buying.
        Didn’t the Bullshit Broadcasting Cunts learn anything from the recent petrol fiasco that they started, fucking cunts.

    • I’m wearing my Bacofoil with pride.

      Like a badge of honour almost.

      Like the poo*fters adorning those rainbows.

      I’ve got a rainbow coloured jumper.

      Used to be my favourite, – but I haven’t worn it for 5 years for the fear of being associated with all that poo*fery.

  23. Just occurred to me, the puppets on the kids tv show rainbow were all gay as fuck, and Geoffrey was a dodgy cunt. Is that why they adopted the rainbow flag as a symbol of arsefuckery? Serious question.

  24. Sirs:

    I have a cousin who sends one of these things, and I have learned to read between the lines.

    “Hi everybody! Please excuse the impersonal nature of this letter, but we have sooo many people on the mailing list and…”

    (We are rapidly aging. Chip’s drinking is getting bad — again — and Molly’s never going to get a promotion at age 58. The kids are gone and except for demands for money don’t communicate much, and we need all of you to believe we are gliding gracefully into retirement.)

    “Jared is working in media in Berlin and his girlfriend Brunhilde is a ‘bondage yoga’ teacher (we didn’t know that was a thing!). Kendall completes his fine arts degree at Tulsa State and is applying to grad school, and Lilith and partner are living in a camper in the Mojave Desert and raising worms.”

    (Our fucked-up adult children are prolonging their adolescence and we can afford it.)

    “We’re sure you are all relieved that Nazi Hitler Trump is gone. We have been attending a Freedom from Whiteness seminar once a week. They sell some great bumper stickers.”

    (As usual we take every opportunity to remind everyone we are on the cool kids’ team.)

    “The new house is great, but there are the usual householder problems. We can’t find anyone to mow the back 40 — they’re all on welfare! — and Chip got his head stuck in a Paul Revere punch bowl during a rather raucous housewarming party. Thank goodness the nearest is neighbor is four miles away!”

    (Even though we are miserable, we’re still much, much richer than you, and don’t you forget it.)

    • That’s almost on a par with Steinbeck, but you failed to mention
      Your new alternative coloured neighbours.
      Your new alternative identifying neighbours
      Your new gun toting, because we can, neighbours

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