I prefer to receive as giving costs too much and I’d rather my smile was genuine and heartfelt than forced and tinged with depression at the thought of dodging debt agency personnel through January. Which will not be ‘dry’ incidentally…
Drinking without guilt; to be fair the other 11.5 months of the year there is invariably a level of self-loathing as I crack open a bottle on a school night. However now is the season to fill one’s boots! Microwaved Mulled wine sipped afore a roaring fire is the perfect antidote to the pre-Christmas stresses and let us not forget does contain fruit and several ‘minerals’ (nutmeg, cinnamon, etc.). Then there’s Prosecco; the bubbles of which contain some magical ‘jiggery pokery’ which I find to be a mood enhancer and cure for most psychological illnesses; at least that evening. Then if you’re feeling nostalgic reach for a sweet sherry which harks back to innocent days of old when you’d have given your left tit for the brazil nut from a box of Black Magic. I’m also rather partial to a festive ale and don’t get me started on Bailey’s which served warm has Santa’s special sauce written all over it. Though I’m sure most will agree nothing says Christmas quite like a ‘snowball’ though I’m pretty sure that’s been proven to cause temporary dementia with a side-order of diarrhoea; or at least it does in our house.
I’m old school in this regard; there should be gaudy crap on that tree nestling next to January sale ‘Laura Ashley’ and a toilet roll fashioned into a Father Christmas. Let it all hang together; neither more important than the other, layer upon layer of the previous years fun festivities a veritable tree of memories; poignant and heart-warming. Then when the kids have buggered off to bed; put on the big light and do the fucking thing properly; you’re not hear to be laughed at and you’re already late with this year’s Facebook decoration envy shots entitled ‘it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas’.
Much like the Booze category; dig out your festive ‘lounging wear’ with elasticated waist and prepare to chow down. I begin the Mince Pie reviews in late November; guilt-free. Then by mid-December nothing is off limits; in fact each meal begins to look out-of-place without a pile of ‘pigs in blankets’ right down to my morning Rice Krispies. Around this time I develop an insane desire for Shortbread and boxes of celebration chocolate biscuits which must accompany every hot beverage. And for some reason I’ll feel compelled to display small oranges with pride in a fruit bowl topped with walnuts. And by Christmas eve we’ll give in and buy dates; no fucker will eat them but it’s law that they must be there with their spindly and pointless fork-like-thing in case someone is bold enough to pop one in their mouth. Usually on the big day itself I develop a ‘holier than though’ attitude to food and declare I only want two roast potatoes and make ‘bah humbug’ statements like “Nobody needs that much food” However by teatime I’m hankering for cold meats and pickles which I’ve been savvy enough to save room for. Don’t bother reminding me of my earlier platitudes I’ll only knock you down with “Come on it’s Christmas; don’t be so mardy…lardy!”
Don’t bother; waste of time and trees and achy hand and stamps…only old people want them to stick diagonally on their doors with a square of sellotape to show how popular they are; once a year when people actually remember they’re not dead; yet. Give them a ‘snowball’ instead; kill two birds with one stone…
Every year the manufacturers manage to come up with a new one; last year it was ‘Cards Against Humanity’ which spoke volumes about the year ahead. This year things are a little less crude and insensitive with either ‘Pie Face’ which is self-explanatory or the one where you talk with a mouthpiece with your ‘tic-tacs’ on show; the light-hearted nature of each I’m also hoping will speak volumes for 2017.