Cliff Richardson once sang “Christmas time, camel toe and wine.” I have no idea why he did that.
Christmas changes as you get older, is possibly the most obvious statement ever made in a blog or anywhere else. Stop saying it!
When you’re a kid, Christmas is almost overwhelmingly exciting. You lay in bed on Christmas eve imagining all the presents waiting for you downstairs. In my house we would leave a pillowcase out for Father Christmas and it would always be brimming on Christmas morning with dozens of perfectly chosen gifts. Then the big present. The big present was generally something electronic and expensive such as a games console or computer. It was always the last one to be unwrapped and would usually cause me to do a strange jumpy dance. However it came with strings attaches, not because it was a puppet but because I would be expected to share it with Laura, my little sister. This was fine because my sister would often lose interest in them quite quickly (I assume), so I’d just play with them until they fell apart. Though I still have the Acorn Electron we got for Christmas in 1984, it still works too, just.
Then comes your late teens and your twenties where Christmas stops being about the presents and becomes about get drunk with your friends. Quite often you’ll wolf down your Christmas dinner before zooming off in an expensive taxi to your mates house to drink gallons of the cheapest Bailey’s substitute known to man while watching The Muppet Christmas Carol. Then you’ll crawl home and go to bed before tolerating a boxing day stand pie with the parent of your choice.
Before you know it you’re in your thirties and you friends and siblings get married and have kids. This changes everything because Christmas become about being a kid again. I’ve always identified far more with children than adults, they’re much more sensible about eating and rolling around on the floor. So you go to your parents’ house and eat too much and play peak-a-boo until the kids start crying and are put to bed. Then you drink yourself insensible with proper Bailey’s and nod off on the sofa until you’re woken up and driven home.
Before you know it you’re in your forties and Christmas changes again. Now the booze and presents don’t really matter, it’s about seeing the people you care about the most and drinking yourself silly. Yes I lied, booze always matters.
I know this is very early for a Christmas blog but I also want to plug possibly the best podcast episode that we’ve ever done. We call it A Christmas Barrels and it is an adaptation of Charles Dickens’ most famous story, after Oliver Twerp, Great Explosions and A Tale of Ten Charlies.
Just a quick blog to wish all the readers of this blog and kind people who listened to The Gentleman’s Review podcast, a Merry Christmas. Your patronage is very much appreciated especially as we’re not big or famous.
I’m writing this on my laptop as my porridge and honey is zooming around in the microwave. Then I’m off to my Mum’s to give presents and have a lovely Christmas nosh up. It’s still a winter wonderland out there which makes the little boy in me jump for joy. Now, stop being smutty, I know what you thought there.
It is also the penultimate of David Tennant’s stories in Doctor Who at 6pm. I must admit to be bracing myself for the worse. It would be unforgivable if Russell T Davies fucked up the final two stories of one of the most popular Doctors ever. I’ve loved this Doctor, as I loved Tom Baker’s and Peter Davison’s before which is a very special thing. Let us hope that he’s given a good send off.
Love you all, see you at new year.
Well here it is Christmas day
Crikey! Has it been a year since the last one.
Of course it has or I wouldn’t be writing about it.
I can be such a fool sometimes.
Here I am sitting drinking my Earl Grey tea, listening to Classic FM and waiting for the fun to start. Luckily it wont be happening at my house but at my goode mother’s. So I expect a car to be picking me up soon full of my sister and many babies.
A MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ONE AND ALL!