The Christmas Referendum

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First of all, obviously beef. Pork has been ruined for me ever since my uncle decided that pork was the ultimate festive meat and in a desperate bid to stop talking to us uttered the immortal words “I’m putting the pork in now”. I like to ignore the existence of turkey because turkeys themselves absolutely horrify me with their beady little eyes and flamboyant plumage. And while I do love a bit of roast chicken, it’s more of a hungover Sunday lunch food rather than a lovely Christmassy main dish. Also beef will go nicely with all the prosecco that I plan on drinking.

Last year we attempted a game of Cards Against Humanity and then gave up and watched Dougal and the Blue Cat. And then Matt arrived and managed to ham-fistedly explode one of his presents (baking sprinkles) which led to me capping off my Christmas day by hoovering his crotch in front of my parents:

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I am being hassled and grumbled at because I haven’t produced a Christmas list yet. It’s been a bit of a struggle this year – partly because my internal monologue just consists of panicked screaming at the moment and partly because I have become a stingy penny-pincher.

It’s an unusual position to be in because I have never been a penny-pincher. I have always been a dramatic and reckless money spender – particularly when I’m drunk; my drunk self once ordered £20 worth of cake to be delivered to my university.

But the year that it took me to claw my way back out of my overdraft after university has instilled a feeling of terror every time I spend more than £5. Whenever I start thinking about potential gift choices my brain just goes “NOPE. NO. NOOOO”. I’ve managed to Pavlov’s dog my brain so well that when I went to buy something the other day, I actually started sweating a bit.

It’s also a lot harder to think of gift ideas when you’re older because you start to want things that are either abstract concepts or just impossible. My ultimate Christmas wish would be for Prince to still be alive but that is tragically, heartbreakingly not going to happen. And if I had to write a Christmas list with things that I genuinely want it would probably look something like this:

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Which is obviously an entirely inappropriate list to give to my family because I don’t think my landlord would let me have a dog – even one that’s dressed as barbeque food.

I think socks are a pretty solid gift because everyone needs socks. I might even go a bit wild and ask for some new towels. Also I don’t think you can go wrong with a nice scented candle. Though last year I was inundated with them which is all well and good until you light them all, fall asleep and then wake up thinking your house is on fire.

I think I’ve reached the point in my life where I am far more excited about giving people presents rather than receiving them which is horrendously boring. I hope I don’t become one of those people who waxes lyrical about the spirit of Christmas and enjoying the festivities in a wholesome way. It’s complete bollocks anyway as everyone knows the best part of Christmas is getting day-drunk and eating so much food that you end up slumped on the sofa wearing a torn Christmas cracker hat and emitting groaning noises. fatherdrunksanta

 

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