Oooh hun - Christmas is a magical, frosty, liver killing time of year. You're constantly encouraged to drink at every opportunity and if you don't have five courses of whatever it is you're eating, then it's frowned on and you're a fucking little prude.
November is a time best spent battening down the hatches and ensuring all your trousers are elasticated of waist so they can take the extra pressure in December.
2013's Christmas time was no exception to previous years in the binge drinking/eating stakes. We were out far more than we were in. But it really is a pleasure to go through the final working weeks in the run up to the big day taking long lunches and constantly being either pissed, on the way to being pissed or getting over being really pissed. At times it was painful. Very painful. It was great to reach Christmas in one piece in order to have some proper shut eye and a slight respite before it all kicked off again in time for new year. Ouchy wouchy...
|Booze. Wrapped up.|
|Terrible scratching skills|
|There's a frog in my gateau|
|Meal of the year innit|
|Letting one off|
|The fence isn't on fire. That's a Christmas firework!|
|Fam rolling out the balls|
|Pon ze beach|