Christmas 2013333333

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

Fam repping

Glugging

 

Note making

Letting one off

The fence isn't on fire. That's a Christmas firework!

Ganja socks

Christmas tree

Diana

Fam rolling out the balls

Pon ze beach

 

Pebbles

I'll have a half please mate

Physical feats of endurance aren't something that anyone reading this blog thinks goes on regularly for its author. And to be fair, the only ones that really came to pass were 'no kip' sessions which had us hibernating for a week and avoiding the outside in fear of being recognised. However, of late you'd be (mildy) surprised. We're not talking doing bench presses, lifting weights or throwing shotputs. Or even star jumps which are fucking impossible if coordination isn't your thing.

But I did sign up to do a half marathon earlier on in the year to rather churlihsly prove a point than doing anything nice like raise money for charideee. The whole process was actually (surprisingly) enjoyable apart from the day-before-pre-match nerves. It feels like the day before a very important exam. And one which, frustratingly, you can't binge drink your way through. Anyhoo it got nailed in less than two hours and no one got hurt. The likes of Peter Cragg, Joe Todd and Dan Shone are actual men cos they nailed proper ones. Props to them. And here's some proof I didn't come a cropper...

Wearing the furry yellow gloves

Pain

Proof