Christmas Presents and Diplomacy

I’m sure we’ve all had the same emotions when opening presents in front of family members. That feeling of excitement as you eye up your present under the tree, soon turns to pisswater when you open it to reveal yet another pair of socks/under-crackers, or a box of Lynx aftershave and shower gel.

Of course you can’t show your contempt/disappointment as it would in all likelihood upset your better half and anyone else in the same room. Instead you have to put on your best smile with eyes wide open in order to feign surprise as you utter “Wow! Another jumper, and it’s just what I need!”

For the record, in terms of clothing this year, I received 5 pairs of socks, 5 pairs of underwear, three thermal vests, two jumpers a pair of slippers and a box of Lynx aftershave and gel – more or less the same as I had for the previous Christmas and probably the last 10 Christmases before that!

But for the sake of keeping the family peace, diplomacy, an iron constitution and a good poker face are all mandatory when it comes to opening shite presents!

Nominated by: Technocunt

 

97 thoughts on “Christmas Presents and Diplomacy

  1. Apart from really old relatives who are still a bit of a cunt for doing it but really don’t know better as it’s what they grew up with, I fell like screaming at any other cunt why did they bother and next time just keep the money.

    • I haven’t bought my kids a Christmas present, or Birthday present, since they turned 18.

      I delight in totally spoiling my Gradly Lass, though. She wants platform trainers, a mere £220. What the Lass wants, she gets.

  2. May I suggest that you are doing it all wrong Techno.

    I am not surprised that you have been receiving inappropriate presents for years.

    When anyone hands you a gift you should look at them accusingly and loudly say, “I hope that this is not a load of fucking shit”.

    If the present is crap then throw it across the room as long as it will cause no damage, or noisily throw it into the bin.

    Then refuse to talk to the person for the rest of the day.

    That’s what I do and I now never receive a crap present.

    In fact, I don’t receive any presents at all.

  3. I have lost count of the shit woodern puzzle gifts I have received..
    10 minutes solving it.
    In the dustbin boxing day..

    A four pack of beer so more enjoyable..

  4. This year I got two pairs of gloves, five pairs of socks, a case of Julebryg and a new dressing gown.

    I’m chuffed to bits. it’s all stuff I needed.

  5. My ex gave me a cheque for £50 which I thought was lovely. Unfortunately I have just been diagnosed with type two diabetes so I can’t go on the lash with it, what a bummer.

    • Why? I was diagnosed with type 2 some 10 years ago and didn’t change a thing except having sweetener instead of sugar in tea and coffee. I’ve been fine.

  6. I’m always grateful.😇

    Socks , undercrackers, lynx shower gel, cans of ale, yep,
    But also a cutthroat razor and strop!!
    Shame I’ve not shaved in years.

    I bought my mates (and myself) hipflasks,
    High polished pewter,
    With a Celtic hound engraved in one corner.
    In olde English font in the other corner it says

    Maycroft drinking club,
    Our old school, no longer there.

    https://www.google.com/search?q=celtic+hip+flask&client=ms-android-hmd&prmd=sivn&sxsrf=ALiCzsZizw0xszQRku-izrzdZrAAV2yMIQ:1672594981059&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi5y8vt9ab8AhVjQkEAHTfvAWEQ_AUoAnoECAMQAg&biw=320&bih=512&dpr=2.25#imgrc=5ecKD9ZErKmUBM

      • I shave my head,
        But if he thinks I’m doing it with that he’s crackers!

        As you’d expect it’s razor sharp.
        Proper Jack the ripper stuff!

      • Maybe you can audition to be the new sweeny todd, you have the razor, you have the murderous intent, and you like pies.

    • Now that, Mis, was so thoughtful it bought a tear to my eye.

      Aye, I thought, he might be as rough as a bears arse, but he does have his moments.

      Then I snapped out of it, fucking hell, I went all Christmas on Wall Street for a moment, there.

  7. Anyone wants my bath bombs and scented hand cream, just post below with your name and postcode.

    Worcs warrior I am looking at you

      • I missed all that DCI (was somewhere in Eng without a signal) but good to have another trollcuntmunter on board for us to take the piss out off. Guess he’s been banned by now tho?!

      • Unfortunately no.

        He signs his posts off with

        ” No offence, just banter, eh?”, or words to that effect.

        He’s been a bit quiet. Maybe he got a bumper pack of towelling sport socks for Christmas, from Mummy.

  8. I bet I’m not the only chap here to have given his 7 year old son a nice, pink sparkly doll for Chrimbo and filmed the ensuing screeching meltdown before giving him his real present a couple of minutes later?
    Did this with both of mine, precisely same reaction 10 years apart!

  9. I may be wrong, but I swear that this Xmas I got a box of handkerchiefs I’d given to somebody else about ten years ago.

    • No, Ron. You’re not mistaken.

      Regifting is the new recycling.

      😂😂😂😂😂😂

    • I got a date rape kit. A box of hankies, a couple of neck ties, & a bottle of chloroform.

      • That’s not the complete Rapists’ Guild approved kit, LC.
        You’ve omitted the hacksaw, hammer and soldering iron.

      • My auntie informed me it was only the starter kit Thomas. Large rubber gloves, pliers & the rest of the kit to follow.

      • Somebody also gave us a box of Quality Street in which the bottoms of the creams were a bit moldy. Weren’t out of date tho. Phoned the freephone no. on the box and moaned like fuck.
        They’re sending me ‘a gesture of goodwill’, whatever that turns out to be.

      • Probably best you don’t put the number up,Ron….Quality Street’ll be swamped tomorrow with calls from foul-mouthed old Cunts demanding free chocolates and giving their thoughts on Darkies, dingy-riders and transbummers.

      • Probably best you don’t put the number up,Ron….Quality Street’ll be swamped tomorrow with calls from foul-mouthed old Cunts demanding free chocolates and giving their thoughts on Sooties, dingy-riders and transbummers.

      • @ Dick

        0800 604 604

        Watch it if you’re going to do a ‘wing it’ call. They asked me to send them a photo of the moldy chocs but I told them I wasn’t going to fanny about with that.

  10. Can’t have enough socks or underpants.
    Especially pants, what with all the rich Christmas fayre and booze, a crafty fart might turn into an embarassing ‘accident’. 🤔

    • I stopped with crafty farts years ago. Nowadays I want everybody to both know about it and get the full benefit of its wallpaper stripping ability.

  11. My Christmas list for 2023.

    Box of assorted grenades.

    Honey badger.

    Connoisseurs guide to gravys of the British isles.

    Agent orange 🍊

    Mini Panzer

    Titty book.

    Bath salts.

    • I can manage the Honey Badger, provided you have suitable accommodation, as they are extremely aggressive cunts.

      Unfortunately, you have to have Sir Brian May, too.

  12. I have no complaints.

    I only received a half dozen bottles of scotch.

    Which have been demolished.

    Nobody needs socks when they are comfortably pissed.

    • My own resolve to have an alcohol free Christmas dissolved, when confronted with the Wankbury’s spirits aisle.

      On the first day of Christmas, I started on the piss with a bottle of Baileys Oirish cream
      On the second day of Christmas, I opened some Jim Bean
      And a large glass of Baileys Oirish cream
      On the third day of Christmas, Some bottles of real ale
      Two tots of Jim Bean
      And a another large Baileys Oirish cream
      On the fourth day of Christmas, Southern Comfort cracked
      More real ale
      Tots of Jim Bean
      And yet more Baileys Oirish cream….
      On the fifth day of Christmas, I received some single malt
      More Southern Comforts
      Three real ales
      Two tots of Jim Bean
      And a large glass of Baileys Oirish cream
      On the sixth day of Christmas, I came back to IsAC’s fold
      Five Single Malts (Talisker 45.8%…..)
      Four Southern Comforts
      Three Real Ales
      Two tots of Jim Bean
      And a large glass of Baileys Oirish Cream
      On the seventh day of Christmas, I had a fucking hangover from Hell
      And Er’ indoors didn’t talk to me.

      Cheers Cunter’s

  13. OT, sorry.
    We’ve another missing lad, we had a spate, all ended up drowned, this was a few years ago.
    I wonder if the twats out? We’ve had two left custody unauthorised, I’m sure the one with the tattooed neck is the bloke.
    Take care, lads. Go nowhere alone.

  14. I’m just amazed that there are so many Cunters who have anyone prepared to buy them a present.

    I am,of course.still wading my way through the mountain of presents given to me by my dear family and close friends.

    • Foxchaser, Foxbotherer.
      What next?
      Foxskinner, Foxstrangler??

      I noticed, even if no one else did, or just plain couldn’t be arsed to comment.

    • No point giving me anything, I’m the cunt who has everything.

      Gave the missus a new hot water cistern for Xmas.

      No, that’s not a euphemism.

  15. You need to let your loved ones know in advance what you’d like.
    This year Mrs Twatt got me the Grattan lingerie catalogue for Christmas, and I’ve been spending lots of time with Mrs Palm’s 5 lovely daughters every day since.
    She knows what I like does Wor Lass.

    • My missus kept leaving jewelry catalogues lying around before Christmas. I can take a hint so I bought her a magazine rack.
      My surgeon says another two more operations and they’ll have it all extracted.

  16. No complaints here – Remy Martin VSOP and a nice soft thick dressing gown from M&S.

    With a late night film, Confessions of a Driving Instructor, I’m as content as a 🐖 in 💩.

    • I treated myself to a bottle of Remy and a good Corvoissier-will be sampling some soon. Maybe tonight.

      *I have, in all seriousness over indulged the booze since Christmas Eve.

  17. Back in the 70s we had a bottle of Hai Karate that did the rounds of the family for about 8 years. Whoever got it would wrap it up and pass it on at the next Christmas or birthday (we knew it was the same bottle because me and a cousin put a little mark on the packaging).
    It all came to an end when one of the turds floating in the family gene pool decided to use it.

  18. Best Christmas present I ever had was my Raleigh chopper.

    Jesus, I loved that bike.
    Second hand , the neighbours older lads,
    It was too big for me at first.
    I was moving up from my Budgie bike.

    My dad took me out on Red Rocks to test it.

    I had also got a fuckin duffle coat that I hated😡
    My fuckin mam!!
    Like I’m Paddington Bear.

    It was going great till I picked up speed on this big bonk,
    My dad shouting

    “Brake! Pull your brakes!!”

    But my child’s hands weren’t big enough!

    I sailed right over this sheer drop,
    Luckily it was clay mud,
    Like I’d come back from the Somme 😄
    My mam hit the fuckin roof

    “Your new duffle coat!
    Look at the state of it!”

    I eventually accidentally ‘lost ‘ that fuckin coat.
    Even now I hate them.
    For dossers.

    But that bike, I truly loved it.

    • Sid James-what a fucker! One take James they called him-the biggest money grabber in British cinematic history.
      He did go balls deep on some prime cunny though, so Kudos for that-with a face like his.

      Mis-I had a Raleigh Spider-what a fucking brilliant bike that was. Had it from the age of 8 till my Mum gave it to the son of a work colleague, when I was 11. I still haven’t forgiven her…..

      • My missus has just watched Knives Out and it’s sequel on Netflix and all I can think is that Daniel Craig will do absolutely any old shit for a big pay cheque.
        The cunt looks like Sid James as well…

      • @BaronB Have you seen Daniel Craig in that Belvedere Vodka ad? He does a weird dance in it. Not an easy watch.

      • Don’t know who it was, but had the nerve to go up to Sid James and say “who knitted your face and dropped a stitch”.

  19. Tell you lads, on the Raleigh Chopper in my little 7yr old brain ,

    I was Evel Knievel

    I was that spic in CHIPs,

    I was Sonny Barger at the head of a hundred Hell’s Angels

    I was Ghost Rider
    Eddy Kidd
    Fuckin Marlon Brando
    Barry Sheene

    Although don’t remember any of them shouted at by their mum because their flared cords got caught in the chain…

    • I was a fellow Chopper rider (errrr) MNC…had a green one. Swapped it for a Kellogs racing bike – what a twat!
      Did you peg playing cards to the forks to attempt a motorbike noise?

      • Yeah , and dropped the handlebars down for that lowrider experience 😁

        Wish I’d kept it for my lad, or just nostalgia.

        Any vehicles I’ve had since haven’t brought me as much joy as that bike.

      • Vintage cycle collectors pay eye-watering sums of money for the choppers that survived. Not many mk1 types did because the frames used to break, due to giving mates a ride home on the double seat. That’s what happened to mine eventually…

    • Ah 70’s Raleigh!

      The Budgie.

      The Tomahawk.

      The Chopper.

      The Grifter.

      A progression of manly vigour.

      • My second “proper bike” as a 5/6 years old was a Grifter.
        I did inherit a cousins Chopper, unfortunately some cunt stole it.
        I was given a brand new Raleigh Spider as a replacement.

        Did any of you Cunter’s have a motorbike / feel;d bike as lads?
        I used to share a mates Yamaha trial bike. My first field bike was a DT175MX-what a fucking great bike that was. I abused the fuck out of it in the wood and fells near us. Razzed the fucker for 3 years, then sold it for twice what I paid for it.
        I would love another, for nostalgia.

      • I had a Suzuki T.S.100 a Harley Davidson S.X. 250 & a Yamaha Y.Z. 465. All good fun back in the eighties. Wish I still had them now.

      • Of my little bikes, I currently have 2 ultra rare Honda MB50s…possibly the slowest motorbike ever made. 26mph and no way to derestrict it, even with a Micron pipe and Boyeson racing reeds!

      • I had a sx250 as well. I thought I was the only one!
        Best field bike I had was a dt400, right beasty

      • I had a Honda CB50J as a teenager and it was slower than the SS50 it replaced. It had a constricted exhaust, undersized valves and a tiny carburetor. I think MB and MT50s were sold in the USA with full power and the restriction is built into the cylinder barrel and its ports for UK bikes. Might be worth a trawl around Ebay

  20. I’m a miserable cunt when it comes to Christmas, and the rest of the year now I think of it, but Christmas doubly so! I’ve managed to convince people I’m a Bon Jovi so they never buy anything, which then saves me pulling ungrateful faces when I unwrap a present. Honestly, the ducking lengths that some cunts go to to make sure you get an absolutely fucking shit gift astounds me. When I was a kid some fucking idiot relative bought me Hai Karate and sat grinning as I unwrapped it. “Ooh, it will make you smell all nice” they crooned. “So, you think I fucking smell bad, do you?? Maybe you should wear some then you stinky bitch” was my Grinch like reply from my 13 year old mouth! The resulting ‘back hander’ from my Grandmother was much better received than the fucking Hai Karate!

  21. Got some good ones this year. I love my records, so I was pleased to get new copies of More Hot Rocks. Deja Vu, Revolver and the recent Jethro Tull album all on LP.

    But then there is the unimaginative/tight cunt, who gets you deodorant, fucking shortbread, and some cheapo poundland chocolates that taste like shit. Coffee creams for 99p. Shite.

    But it’s people that ruin Christmas. The wife’s sister, what a cunt. Don’t see the cunt for ages (which suits me), but we ‘have to’ invite the thing round ‘because it’s Christmas’. Not only did the cunt hijack the sound system and torture us with Bjork and Lana Del Cunt. But when we wanted to watch something, the daft slag while pissed on red wine talked loudly all the way through it. The fucking cunt. Needless to say, I was overjoyed when the shitehawk/gobshite finally fucked off. Fucking hate her, bitch.

    • Oh, and if anyone ever tells her to tone it down or shut up, the cunt always makes a massive scene and then sulks like a smartied up child, bringing the festive atmosphere down to Nagasaki 1945 levels. A thermonuclear surface to air intercontinental ballistic cunt. I have said to the Mrs ‘Come on. you hate her as much as I do’. She admitted that she does, but she has the bitch round out of both pity and duty. So I have insisted we are not having her again, because she is fucking evil.

  22. Got the Carry On Christmas DVD off a mate this year. Jack Douglas, Kenneth Connor and Frankie Howerd were funny as fuck. Plenty of totty and all, Valerie Leon, Sally Geeson and all them. Proper British telly instead of this woke bollocks.

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