HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESUS
It's Christmas! I'm back in Albion with the family taking in the festive cheer.
It's great to be back home for a few days, even if it does get dark at 4pm and the telly (and the nation) is obsessed with crap celebrity chefs, well general crap celebrities. It's a stark contrast to France where there are only about 15 famous people and they are all on tv every night on each other's crap, endless chat shows, in Blightly about half the 60 million population is a celebrity. Right now Noel Edmonds in on tv and i had to retire to the computer because I was becoming overwhelmed with the desire to punch him in his crap goatee beard. Even though i'm 31 I can't actually grow a goatee, but if I could I still wouldn't for fear of being punched in the face by fellow noel edmonds haters.
The office party went down on friday night in London's Farringdon district, and it was a riotous affair. The entire mob from the London ofice of our company Factory media ltd got right on it in a club full of the various fabrics of god's rich tapestry. I only have a vague recollection of leaving the dance, but luckily woke up in my bed in the King's Cross travel lodge, not outside with a tramp's penis in my ear.
On saturday i travelled out to the Shires where I watched Reading beat Sunderland at the Majeski, which was ace. It's nice for them to pick up some points before the Hammers turn them over tomorrow. I saw Roy Keane up close for the first time in my life and really wanted to make a wanker sign at him but i caught a glimpse of his eyes and got really scared.
I only bought one present this year, a magazine subscription for my mum (not surfeurope). Other than that I didn't bother, because for me it's mainly the receiving that's really special, rather than the giving, although i did buy a stranger a shot of sambucca last night in the pub, even though he had that really shit spiky-at-the-back hair the rosbifs seem to love and was sporting a shirt and tie and a cardi and looked emotional.
Tomorrow Ryanair will hopefully be carrying me and my luggage back to biarritz before me, the leafblower and the manwhore drive down to portugal for NYE.