Christmas is the day we remember that Santa died on the cross to save the world, and we all honour the memory of that wonderful moment by going out and getting shit-faced drunk.
I wasn’t going to be caught out like last year and the year before that and the year before that and the year before that and the year before that and the year before that and the year before that…
This year, I decided, I’d get all my presents in good time. And I’d have the house nice and tidy and organised in plenty of time as well. And I’d get all the shopping weeks in advance. And I’d have all the cooking done for feeding the great multitudes without having to rush at the last minute like last year and the year before that and the year before that and the year before that and the year before that and the year before that and the year before that and the year before that and the year before that…
So how do you think I went about achieving all this?
I did what every right-thinking man does in such circumstances. I went out drinking every night, left everything to the last minute, bought no presents and cooked nothing. The house is in absolute shit. Everything is either filthy or flung around in heaps on the floor. And I have a terrible hangover due to going out yet again last night, with the Bockdaughter (drinking), to a pub full of reptiles, goose-milkers and heron-stranglers. I know I’m not as young or as pretty, but by my estimate, I lost out approximately three to one on the number of free drinks that came my way, compared to the BD. Why’s that? Stingy fuckers.
Not that it deterred me: BD fucked off to Nancy Blake’s and I dragged a number of the reptiles and heron-stranglers with me to Baker Place to hear Captain Purplehead and the Drunkest Band in the World perform their greatest hits. Drunk. I was in a bit of trouble myself, and it was only by the luck of God that I didn’t wake up with a shaved head and a Metallica tattoo on my scalp.
And that’s why I still have nothing done, and there’s only about a day left to manage it all. And that’s also why it would definitely be a very bad idea to go out tonight again. But, you see, the problem is that Brian O Connor is back from Sweden for Christmas and he’s playing in Small Claw’s tonight, and you know he’s a great old rocker, and we don’t often get the chance to hear him these days, so maybe just this once, even though it’s probably not the best idea, I might go out …
There’s always tomorrow.