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Christmas tip number two.

Carrots for the reindeer? Waste good veg on the livestock? Especially that which is webbed up with an utter bastard like Claus.

No, the streets are littered with dog turds, there is orange poster paint available. You know what to do.

Claus eats it? Rudolph eats it?

Either way a bastard gets it.

Frigging bloody bastard once a year drinkers, infesting my watering holes, inserting their malodourous carcasses into chairs that I have come to think of as mine, causing a back up at the bar because their rat-sized brains can't take in the fact that pubs have a choice of alcoholic drinks, the men's clumsy, inappropriate flirting with the young female bar staff (taking bread from the mouths of aging Lotharios, the bastards), trying to make conversation with 'regulars' ('the door is the rectangular thing in the wall behind you, kindly use it') and just the general hogo of twattishness that surrounds them.

Bastards.

#Yuletide carols being sung by a choir,

And folks dressed up like Eskimos...#



Anyone looking remotely like a caroller will be a given a warm welcome.

The tar is heating up nicely and there?s a couple of unplucked turkeys to complete the job.

The same goes for ?wasaillers?. I give fair warning.

#Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe,

Help to make the season bright.

Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow,

Will find it hard to sleep tonight?#


Their eyes aglow from all the hours they?ve spent playing Grand Theft Auto and hammering crystal meth, probably.

#They know that Santa's on his way;

He's loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh.

And every mother's child is going to spy,

To see if reindeer really know how to fly?#


Listen, a couple of the regulars have suggested buying a reindeer and taking a coach trip up to Beachy Head on Boxing Day to test out this thesis.

There?s a collection going on. If you?re interested speak to either No Nose or Mad Gavin.

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