Par-rump-a-pum-pum
Posted on | December 24, 2008 | Comments Off
Time once again to celebrate the feast of the Christus, or the birth of Cliff Richard, or whatever it is that forces us to spend daft money on daft gifts for daft friends and relatives. I’m planning the traditional Christmas of gorging myself on carbohydrates and dead birds (and the flesh of miscellaneous other animals), getting drunk and arguing with someone before falling asleep in an armchair. Brilliant. I really do wish it could be Christmas everyday.
Tomorrow is the only day when it’s acceptable to make the ‘leg or breast’ joke. It’s the only day when it’s ok to work the word ‘goose’ into conversations more often than the average Carry-On film. Tomorrow is the only day of the year when you might get away with saying ‘you’re an old slut on junk’ to your wife – as long as you sing it a bit.
Insane, hyper-child is abed and, I think, settled. Cookie, milk and carrot are on the hearth. Beer is in the fridge. All is right with the world. All that remains is for me to wish you all a very happy Cliffmas.
Ho ho ho, everyone. All the best.
Comments
Gerry Hayes
I mostly sit around all day and drink tea. Occasionally, I write stuff and send it to strangers so they can humiliate me and debase my efforts. Other than the self-harm to dull the shame of failure, it's not a bad life. Like I say, there's tea.
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