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Saturday, December 27

A Christmas Carol

My Mum's name is Carol, so it's a title that is slightly humourous on many levels. OK, so it's vaguely funny on just one level, and only because I just told you, but still...

Anyway, this is the story of my Christmas. I don't expect it to be in quite the same league as Dickens' epic tale, but it should be at least half-decent.

I shall begin with the tale of Christmas Eve. It wasn't a particularly exciting day, and was in fact quite dreary. Nothing of any note happened during the day itself, except for me finally getting round to wrapping my presents to my family. I have to say that although I always leave that kind of thing until the very last minute, I am fucking good at wrapping presents. I always make an effort to get them looking as nice as possible, and I tend to spend a fair bit of time attaching ribbons and all that kind of crap. This year I had to wrap this huge candle for my parents, and it looked the dog's by the time I finished it. It was in a big cardboard tube (think like a loo roll, but one designed for a hippo), and I wrapped it like you do a wine bottle, with the kind of flourish at the neck. You know what I mean. I put loads and loads of ribbons in the neck, and it looked brilliant. I swear my Mum had a tear in her eye when I eventually brought it down...

My Granddad came over later that day for a meal. Nothing too major, just a big salad-type-thing. I make a kick-ass salad, so I was in charge of getting all that sorted, as if I didn't have enough to do already, what with sitting on my ass and watching TV. How can I be expected to fit in 8 hours of TV every day as well as doing jobs around the house? I mean, really!

The meal was really good, but I got so offended by my Mum and her Dad when they started talking on various subjects. They are so racist and nonchalant about it that I get offended. I'm going to explore that in another post a little later, but suffice it to say that they shock and apall me. The other thing that annoyed me about my Mum was how she was so hypocritical about my generation. Somehow thr subject got onto mobile phones, and I mentioned that I was looking at a new handset for when my contract is up for renewal. It's really cool, with a camera and flash on it. She went off on one, saying about how my generation is so materialistic and should just stick with a basic phone that makes calls and does text messages. However, when I pointed out to her that by that logic she didn't actually need the new car that she had recently got, and should have stuck with her old one, that was completely different. Of course, I see the difference... she is just so annoying!!!

I managed to escape to the pub with a couple of mates for the rest of the evening, which was a godsend. Played a few games of pool, shot the shit, and generally had a good time. We also finally made our concrete plans for New Year's Eve, in that we are going to our local pub to get blindingly drunk, rather than going all the way to Cardiff to get blindingly drunk. It'll be cheaper too, seeing as the pub's running a £30-all-you-can-drink deal. It was wicked there last year, and should be good this time too.

Moving on to Christmas Day itself now, I managed to haul my ass out of bed around 9.30, and drag myself downstairs to the living room and to the presents. My sister had just got up as well, so we were both still half-asleep. I guess the magic of Christmas has been lost on the pair of us, and has been replaced by the magic of lie-ins. Who gets up before 10 in the morning?! Not me.

I got a load of cool presents, including a big pile of clothes. I guess buying for a twenty year-old guy is pretty difficult, because I mostly got clothes and gift vouchers. Never mind, I'm happy with that result. Oh, and I also got the Hollyoaks calendar. Fucking Result!!! I like the Hollyoaks girls, they are pretty. And in bikinis.

My family was pleased with my presents, at least as far as I could tell, so that was all good. Once we'd finally finished all of the festivities and unwrapping business, we started to get sorted for going to my Auntie's house. It's a tradition that we go to her house for Christmas dinner and the whole day, and this Christmas we were going to sleep the night too.

Again, a pretty cool day of it, accompanied by the now traditional groaning plates of dinner. i have to say that I really, really enjoy having an enormous dinner on Christmas Day. It just feels right. All the trimmings, and a pile of food on your plate is definitely the way to go on Christmas Day. And any other day, come to think of it.

I ended up on the living room floor that night, on an airbed and in a sleeping bag. I didn't sleep brilliantly, because of their stupid ticking clock. I fucking hate ticking clocks, and I swear that I'm never ever having one in my house (when I finally get one...). They just irritate me so much, all repetitive and annoying. Stupid bastard ticking clocks.

And that was pretty much it. I can't be arsed to write about Boxing day, because that was even more boring than the previous two days. Hope you all had a great Christmas too, and that Santa brought you everything you wanted / deserved.

Geez, this turned into a well boring post. Meh.


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