Sorry I ain’t added anything for a while but I am well busy at the moment. Not only is it Christmas the busiest time of the year; the only time of year when the whole family get together and then suddenly realise why this is the only time of the year when they get together, but I am also moving house.
To be honest I don’t know how other people celebrate Christmas but I'm pretty sure that what my family get up to ain't orthodox.
I usually work right up to Christmas Day, on Christmas Eve I go out into Prestwich, meet up with all my old school mates have a good catch up and ale session. In the past I have been known to let this little tradition spoil Christmas Day. I’m referring to the year when I couldn’t stomach any Christmas dinner because I had stuffed my face with a kebab only hours earlier and the time when I ate all the pigs in blankets for everyone before dinner. Something my sister has still not forgiven me for.
I also have a confession to make, a few years ago there was a story in the local paper under the headline, ‘Drunken Youth Cancels Christmas’ and yes that drunken youth was me.
Every year the Rotary Club would parade Father Christmas through the streets of Prestwich on the back of a Salford Van Hire van, One year I was a bit excited about Christmas and I heard the sound of the van coming down our street. Egged on by my sister who had the video camera to hand, I ran up to Father Christmas mounted the van and gave the cheery rotund chap a love.
Now I must protest my innocence a bit here I was not drunk I just happened to have a Carling in my hand at the time and therefore, I believe the Rotary Clubs decision to no longer drive the streets of Prestwich but instead park in the Tesco car park instead, for fear of repeat attacks is a bit over the top. To be honest I just think they are being lazy.
On Christmas morning we usually get up quite early, my Sister and her family come round and we rip open our presents, which is always an entertaining affair. This is mainly because my Dad has the acting abilities of a Hollyoaks cast member and therefore struggles to hide his disappointment at the presents my Mum has bought him; despite her constantly reassuring him that even though he doesn’t know it, it is both what he wants and what he needs. My Mum on the other hand doesn’t even try to hide her disappointment at what my Dad has bought her for himself.
Now to be honest I have had my fair share of decent presents in the past. Two years ago Alex bought me a gerbil called Kelsey which was really cute and fun, the problem was the little rodent was up the duff and by Boxing Day I had seven gerbils. Thank you Alex for the gift that keeps giving!
After the present shebang we head off to church, it’s a fun service with people doing show and tell of their presents and there is an underlying feel of Christmas warmth, the sort you get from the feel good Victorian Christmas films on Tv around this time.
Once back home we have our Christmas dinner, which is usually turkey. I don’t understand what the point of turkey is as its not as nice a chicken, its like you all sit down for a big family meal and the main dish is something that is not quite as nice as something you eat the rest of the whole year and don’t get me started on sprouts.
Sprouts aka the Devil's testicles, they are little pockets of fart served by the insane. I swear if you bite a sprout two grow in its place, you chew the little gets for hours and they just keep expanding.
As I said our Christmas is not that orthodox and neither is our Christmas dinner. For example I’m pretty sure that we were the only family in the world that had a Bendy Bully as a table decoration. Also last year, my Nephew Joe stole a whole turkey leg and sat there looking like Bambam from the Flintstones and we had to endure the yearly rigmarole of my Dad trying and failing to get a nice picture of us all round the table using the delay setting on his camera.
By the end of the spread we are usually stuffed and knackered resulting in us all falling asleep in different chairs around the house.
Boxing Day is a whole other bag of tricks. For some reason that I am still not quite sure of we gatecrash a family in Liverpool's Christmas. We have to refer to them as Uncle and Auntie even though we ain't related. like Peter Kay says "They're not your real Aunty and Uncle you just have to call them that because you once borrowed an orbital sander off them a few years ago"
It is the most surreal of past times visiting them as Uncle Mick is Dutch but has lived in Liverpool for nearly 50 years, in which time he has forgotten how to speak Dutch but never really learned to speak English. Instead he communicates by viciously elbowing the person next to him and speaking a combination of swear words and stories about the Tate and Lyle Sugar Factory. He also collects toys that sing, you know the ones that perform short, high pitch performances, if you clap near them. It is an art form to be quiet round them so they don’t go off. One year I swear I coughed and set of a Christmas Tree singing La Bamba and a dog doing a toe tapping rendition of New York New York.
One year my Mum received a toy running ostrich off him as a gift. She played a blinder to be honest looking pleased with her gift but 12 months later donated it to the Church Fair. I thought this was unfair so when she wasn’t looking I bought it back for 50p, wrapped it up and gave it to her again for Christmas.
I hope you enjoyed this little insight into what I get upto over christams and I hope you have a lovely Christmas whatever you get upto, random or not.
Ding Dong Merrily and Bye, Flash.x