Christmas Comes Early

It's hard to know if that festive jingle-jangle is the sound of Santa arriving at your local shopping centre, the broken clutch on my prehistoric car that I can't afford to fix or Brian Lenihan touching himself through the lining of his trouser pockets as he prepares to dry-ride me right in front of the kids with his extra-special-edition Christmas budget. I know, I know, the retail sector are dirty scum for the way they dust off the Christmas decorations while the rest of us are still getting shitfaced on July's batch of cut-price cider that was probably brewed in a jax somewhere but perhaps they have it right this time. Even if most normal people don't want to know about Christmas until about 9am on December 1st at the very earliest (1pm if it falls on a Saturday or Sunday) and anyone who does their shopping before this either a) has the decency not to admit it or b) only needs to buy one Christmas cracker, enough wrapping paper to wrap a packet of cat treats and a felt mouse with a bell inside it and enough brandy and valium to go under on Christmas eve and not resurface until January 2nd to find that nobody has missed them or called to investigate the smell of death, farts and cat wee. It is possible however that this is the year when the thing of childhood dreams and lotto wins and scoring a girl who's way out of your league should finally happen and Christmas comes early.

Think about it - come December 7th we have been told that all bets are off. Christmas will probably be cancelled, Jesus will finally be taken down from his cross so it can be sold for firewood and the department of education will at last give the green light for our kids to be taught the true message of civil society, that only a chump believes that crime doesn't pay. With this in mind, tradition should go out the window along with scruples, inhibition, any thought for tomorrow and teary-eyed backward glances of quiet regret. This is the year we get fucked up and I'm not just talking about consenting adults here I mean everybody from little Billy Jenkins (buy him the fuckin bowie knife for Christmas, who gives a shit?! Fill his little stocking woth razor blades, he won't need fingers to draw the dole, not that there'll be any of it left) to fucking Santa Claus. Let's do it all 4 weeks early this year and get so obscenely obliterated that come December 7th and Budgettime we'd sell our own souls not to have to go to work opting instead to curl up and weep around the cooling porcelain trunk of a toilet bowl. This is the year we give in to every outrageous request on the Christmas wishlist. Guns, knives, flamethrowers, abortions, double-anal, even Bratz Dolls and fucking puppies - it's all going in the pot for the Christmas to remember.

So this November 25th, let's make history with the first official 'Early Christmas'. And this year, let's spend every last penny so that come December 7th there's not a brass farthing left. And for those of you with the stamina to survive and the residual physical capacity to reproduce, when your grandchildren ask where were you for Christmas 2010 you need to be able to look them in the face and say "All over the fuckin' place, where the fuck were you?"