what another unprecedented thing this year?!
Ah, bless.
The morning of my shopping trip to town, the radio are playing The Pogues.
#getinthemood
Michael Bublé’s real name is Michael Bubble. The accent over the ‘e’ is actually an ‘l’.
Sloppy handwriting.
Lady Slowlane and I have just finished auto-signing our Christmas Cards…
If you don’t receive yours during the week it will be because you’ve offended me, (and by that token Lady Slowlane too) during the previous 12 months. For those of you who do receive one I’d just like to remind you I watch EBay carefully in the run-up to the 25th. I was very disappointed in those of you last year, who thought they would sell these collectors items to fund their Christmas overspend.
I am watching.
Look I know we take the mickey out of your longevity but I thought you realised it was banter, please send us a card, my daughters especially look out for it and enjoy your family snap
I have received several of these from the various Sotonian families. Can you guess whom they are from??
Is the top one Pap, minus his syrup?
No no no no no…the top one is Bazza’s card.
I was certain that was long lost, greatly missed @sa
For about 20 years we had about 15-17 for Christmas lunch, having had all of them (and more!) on Christmas Eve for old fashioned carol singing and supper.
We eventually gave all this up, returning to normality, and last year went down to a sensible 5, and this year at 7. It was fun in the beginning, and for many of those years it was good, but like all things, it had passed its sell by date.
One of my memories of the first two thirds of those years was manipulating the seating plan each and every year on the long table so that a certain person was always “below salt”! Sadly, I had even bought a special salt holder that was part of the table layout.
The others all bought in to this annual event, and bribes for always offered for a seat “above salt” (where of course I always was!).
With small but select family numbers now, the best I can do is put the salt container just in front of me, as a tribute to all those from the early years who can no longer be with us.
This is a Christmas story that will bring you cheer, even though I am sure I’ve told it before.
For all their bravado, scousers, particularly the older ones, are a bit squeamish about two words southerners say a lot.
They might give it the old large with their blerts, their meffs and their soft-lads. Drop a cunt into the conversation and they’re floored. To a lesser extent, the true is same of twat.
Gingora’s old dear finds those words particularly offensive, which is a perfect fit for the particularly offensive personality that I have.
I spent our last Christmas dinner there saying those words over and over again, in one concentrated burst, not saying anything else. Literally “twat-cunt-twat-cunt-twat-cunt”, etc.
That was 17 years ago. We’ve never been invited back.
Hmmm.
So in November it was me, Mrs P_F & Mum.
This morning I was informed we are expecting 12 or more.
I tried using “but I’m English, I can only meet 5 other people” but it didnt work
More shopping tomorrow and I’ve budgeted my bad knee up
Bah hunbug
Hopefully not priced yourself out of the market. 
If you are stuck for a present idea for a chef in your life