I've been nursing a foot and a leg injury with a combined recovery period of 4 months and am quite disappointed no one picked up on my hints for a pimp cane come walking stick this Christmas, as I'm actually in dire need of one. Ergo I've decided to skip to the next step of senility by withdrawing to my room for the foreseeable future to do the jigsaws I did in fact receive with the aid of copious spirits of Christmas.

Right this moment I can't sleep as I ate too much food and drank until I passed out after dinner. I'm celebrating the mid-winter pagan festival with as much mulled wine and bucks fizz as I can humanely consume, tis indeed the season to be jolly. Those aside, I've had this debate with my friends and we've come to the conclusion that the true spirit of Christmas is brandy, as technically port and sherry are fortified wines.

Merry fucking Christmas, heathens.