Well thank phook that's over for another year.
It's no secret that the older you get the more of a pain in the trousers the whole thing actually is....
They say Christmas is for the kids but my screaming hellians don't know how bloody lucky they are. We got them a Nintendo Wii with a pile of games and accessories but it just caused a stack of sibling rivalry as they fought over which controller, mii, colour or whatever they're gonna play with. That's assuming they can agree on even playing the same game.
Never mind four player MarioKart, when I was a kid the nearest we got to multiplayer video gaming was when my sister and I threw Atari VCS carts at each other from across the living room awarding ourselves five points for each head shot. It was (literally) the most fun you could have with the E.T. cart in particular.
I also did my usual trick of turning up at work every fekkin' day in the run up to Christmas fit and healthy only to be struck down with man-flu the moment my annual leave kicked in so I spent the first half of the hols drinking Lemsip instead of Lambrusco and lying pathetically around the house ignoring the wife's requests to help her write a ton of cards to people we never see or hardly know.
I can't say it's left me full of festive cheer - hell, I'm not even full of festive beer this year as I haven't had a drop thanks to my illness. The TV 'entertainment' has also been dismal. Someone should tell those theives at the BBC that Christmas was around before the Seventies so why they insist on showing Morecombe and Wise, Are You Being Served or Dad's fekkin' Army as some kind of retro 'nostalgia' trip every year is beyond me. They take my money for the licence fee and piss it up the wall on repeat fees. And another thing - programmes advertised as 'Christmas Specials' such as Mock The Week and Eight Out Of Ten Cats were just a string of repeated clips. That's not a flippin' Christmas Special, it's a cheap-as-shit cop-out clip show - and it sucks. Advertise it as what it actually is and don't waste my bloody time.
So anyway, I guess It's time to draw a line under the whole thing and perform the final act of the annual festive season - that is drag the tree outside, attack it with an axe and burn it in front of the kids.
For some reason that always seems to make them cry...