The time of year that costs me my hard earned cash for the benefit of other people… Boooooooo!!!!
The only good part of it is getting drunk enough that you would need subtitles when you talk, and sitting by the fire happily singing Christmas classics such as:
- All I want for Christmas is boobs
- We wish you a horny Christmas
- O Come, on your faces
- Jiggle boobs, Jiggle boobs, Jiggle all the way
You know, the classics?
It’s also the time of year that every girl is like “I just want a boyfriend for Christmas!”. And you know what that means? That means you can be that terrible decision she makes in her desperate attempt to not be alone and be bought things.
If I haven’t Made it clear, I am not the biggest fan of Christmas – however, if anyone should be looking to get their favourite writer (me) any Christmas Gifts:
Chandlers’ Christmas List
- Learjet 75 (with private pilots annual salary included for the next ten years, obviously)
- Everyone to dress better (preferably suits)
- A private island
- More ties (cannot have too many, fact)
- 1-year membership (including free dances) to 3 strip clubs of my choice (can be in different locations – for my travels)
- A new kettle
- Pet Moose (he will be named, Cornelius)
- My old pet goat back, Dermot.
- Limo with driver (for places that my Learjet is inaccessible… like Waitrose or the strip clubs I will have memberships to)
- A Hummer (not the car)