Well, 2023’s advent rode into town this morning on horseback, where it will hold court until St Nick arrives with his sack of goodies in the early hours of 25th December. Upon reaching town the incorrigible fella tethered his hoss Tiddles outside the saloon, allowing him freedom to quaff a few swift whiskies and flirt shamelessly with barmaid Mavis Spratts.
Anyhow because of advent’s arrival, like a giddy child, upon waking I excitedly sought my calendar to see what confectionery trinket was in situ behind door number one. Only to remember on entering my apartment’s living room that I didn’t have an advent calendar.
My Ossett beau (Sarah) instead gifting me an out of date Easter egg; making matters worse it was a Cadbury’s Creme Egg. Confectionery I’m so indifferent to I’d place it below horse manure on my ‘Favourite Brown Things To Eat’ list.
I shouldn’t complain about Sarah’s chocolate gift in lieu of an advent calendar. After all, as they say, it’s the thought that counts…. Well that’s what polite non-confrontational individuals would say. Rude people may posit a less appreciative “What a s**te present!” when in receipt of an out of date Easter choccies.
Anyhow, with December’s arrival, Joe and Josephine Public can breathe a sigh of relief they are now less likely to incur the Christmas tree police’s wrath for early tree erection. Lifestyle paragons becoming less judgemental once advent calendars (or out of date Cadbury Creme Easter eggs) make an appearance.
With the dawning of the final month of 2023, it won’t be long before carol singers stand at your door ‘ole (as Sarah calls a doorway).. Warblers whose singing abilities ordinarily vary from cacophonous to even more cacophonous to “Where’s my shotgun?!”
To clarify, I’ve nothing against carol singers per se. Listening to festive refrains sung by a melodic choir is a wonderful addition to the Christmas experience. However, a pubescent kid standing on my doorstep repeatedly singing the line “Silent Night, Holy Night” until I give them a quid is a sure fire way of bringing out the Grinch in me.
It’s even worse when they perform a song that’s not even a carol! I’m convinced a couple of Decembers back one kid whistled ‘Bring Him Home’ from Les Miserables whilst my doorstep in situ. Not only was it not a carol, he couldn’t even be bothered to sing the lyrics.,, Although, as whistling and singing at the same time is a difficult act, I should probably cut him some slack.
One thing I’m certain of is, after he’d fleeced me out of £1 for his piss poor entertainment, it was more than Les who was bloody miserable!… Luckily this year, with now living in a first floor apartment, I won’t have to contend with festive singers on my doorstep… Well, unless a neighbour grants them access to the building.
December’s dawn also sees the commencement of a month when, due to an amalgam of chocolate and heightened excitement levels, children’s giddiness levels become markedly higher than any other month of the year.
Adults are equally as giddy. Some quaffing insane amounts of alcohol at office parties. Booze imparting them with courage enough to tell their boss what they’ve wanted to tell them all year, but daren’t when sober!……. Vitriolic and cruel putdowns such as “Do you use Harmony hairspray, Arthur?!” and “How did you become my boss? You don’t even know how Dundee cakes get their name?!”
A Dundee Cake (below) – You’d never guess how it got its name. Unless you guess it was because it originated in Dundee ….. Errrrr, then you have guessed!
As the office Xmas parties get out of hand, Harvey in Accounts will get his face slapped by Mary from Sales for inappropriate behaviour. His lewdness occurring during an impromptu office Hokey Cokey when putting his hand in, instead of out, before shaking it all about.
During raucous Mailroom Christmas celebrations, ‘pickled’ franking machine operator George will no doubt once again show off his barcode tattoo. An idiosyncratic piece of body art which recognises him as a bag of 99p King Edward potatoes when scanned at his local Asda.
Meanwhile, prior to leaving for her Christmas Eve bus home, Gloria, secretary of premises manager Eddie Boardwalk ponders whether to report tipsy building maintenance engineer Archie Archdeacon. The misogynistic office wag who only moments earlier rung her office extension to mischievously enquire “Can you give me Ed, please?”
Anyway, enjoy your advent folks!
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