It’s Christmas-time, and I’m off to find a fat goose

It’s that time of year again, and my thoughts turn to what sort of transport calamity may befall me this instance as I prepare to leave these shores once again. Last year it was an 18-hour sojourn on the M40, followed by a 4-hour wait in the enchanting environs of the Channel Tunnel terminal. This year it seems that low temperatures will not be the most prominent hazard, but presumably floods and gale force winds will put in an appearance instead.

But no matter. I still have a child-like love affair with Christmas, and it takes more than freezing delays or soggy driving to dampen my festive mood. So before I take my leave, and allow the blog to rest neglected whilst its author gets pissed and fat, it behoves me (as a more pompous writer even than me might have said) to wish all my loyal readers a very merry Christmas, a peaceful and prosperous New Year, and I look forward to your company again when I finally resurface some time in early January.

And if you’re not a Christian, or merely a heathen unbeliever in any faith, well, I have it on good authority from the Prime Minister himself that you’ve no damn business being in this country in the first place. Or something like that. But for you, happy winterval, solstice, or whatever, and enjoy the fulminating splutterings of ex-Archbishops and assorted right-wingers telling you that this Christian country has finally gone to the dogs.

Until next year…

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One thought on “It’s Christmas-time, and I’m off to find a fat goose

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