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I saw three ships come sailing in, on Christmas Day on Christmas Day
I saw three ships come sailing in, on Christmas Day in the morning.
No you didn’t mate. You’re clearly lying. The addition of “in the morning” is the giveaway, trying to add extra detail to make it seem true. Who is sailing ships on Christmas Day? No fucker that’s who. Certainly not three fuckers anyway.
Case closed.
I certainly didn’t see any ships as I stayed in the house all day and don’t live near to any large body of water. I did see two kids opening loads of presents though.
I had a dream that Richard E Grant had messaged me on insta and said something like “Hi Buddy, loved your hair in that recent TV show - See you soon.” He didn’t even address the unbroadcast elephant in the room and seemed surprisingly familiar. I didn’t know how to respond. Was this the opportunity to persuade him to let me put his RHLSTP out? Had I misjudged him?
Oh, I woke up. It wasn’t a Christmas miracle. It hadn’t happened.
I also had a dream where I had a glass of whisky. I could actually taste it. I stopped at one. It was fine. This is my second Christmas Day in a row without booze (and third of the last four). It’s nearly two years since my last drink now. Am I going to break after double Dry Jan-cember? Or should I aim of Dry Jan-uar-uary? Or should I keep going until September 27th so that I have completed 1000 dry days?
I am surprised I managed so many dreams as I was woken up a fair bit by my excited son. So the day was a bit of a blur.
The kids had made their own crackers and written their own jokes. They weren’t very good. One of Phoebe’s just said “You crack me up!” Because it was in a cracker.
Another was “what did the fire say to the snowman?”
“You’re melting on me.”
She explained that melting means falling for romantically. Which it doesn’t. So another failure.
I’d come up with
“Why is Santa on his final delivery like daddy?
Because they both have one ball in their sack.”
No one laughed at this and I explained that Santa usually gives a ball of some kind as a gift, so when he’s on his last delivery he only has one ball left. As do I.
Got nothing.
Ernie’s were even worse. Pick of the bunch was"Why did the scissors talk to the pen?
To snap the ends off.”
I ate way too much food and felt sick. And then polished off most of a selection box before bed. That plus cheese and turkey left me reeling, but at least I’d got myself to the point where I never wanted to eat anything again, so ready for the post Christmas diet. If I live through the night. Which isn’t a given. Even though I am writing this on Boxing Day (spoilers).
