I had planned on writing a longish post about the various meanings of Christmas, from people actually believing that there was someone born a couple of thousand years ago to a carpenter whose wife insisted that “no, it wasn’t anyone from your company’s Christmas party who knocked me up, ’twas this mythical creature that sent an angel did the job” to those thinking that Christmas is mainly something to enjoy what the entertainment and dumbing-down industries put on their platters, no matter how awfully insipid it might be, to finally those who just enjoy the free days that allow them to spend time with their dear ones.
I decided against it, simply because I can’t find the time between going to church every two hours, listening to “The Best of Wham” (a wonderful record consisting of just this one song) and playing “do you need to pee or not” which my little Swedish nephew.
So instead I’ll just leave you with a hearty Merry Christmas and all that stuff.
Enjoy the birth of the little one! For in a few months, you’ll be celebrating his coming back from the dead after a gruesome death by the hands of ruthless Roman pigs all over again!
PS: Oh, and if you happen to be gay, tough luck!
And here’s to Christmas. At least when it comes to the header of this very blog, where I’ve once again put to use my insane Gimp skills to create what you might call a very superior Christmas header image.
Apart from changes to the design, bloggers like me also receive early Christmas presents. One of them was a package in the shape of tube, containing three cans of a drink. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
A few weeks back, I, like a few other people, was addressed by a representative of a PR-company in Switzerland, offering me a drink with the luring name “Walrossalkohol”. Which, and even if your German is rudimentary you might have guessed that, can be translated into the English language as “Walrus alcohol”. Anyway, me being both extremely adventurous (especially if adventure is sent directly into my flat) and quite partial to the various ways of imbibing alcohol, decided to graciously accept the offer. Oh, how I was looking forward to this strange new drink, imagining nights of debauchery similar to what the poets of the 19th century experienced with the aid of la Fée Verte.
Well, a couple of weeks later I received a mysterious tube:
Anxiously I ripped open the wondrous package, only to find what inside? Utter disappointment! For all it contained were three cans of a drink similar to what you might know as Red Bull, void of anything even slightly resembling hard, hallucinations-inducing alcohol. Burying my dreams of a poetic shindig, I opened a can, took a sip and lo and behold, it contained a drink very similar in taste and effect to above mentioned Red Bull.
This marks the end of my recount. Goes to show that early Christmas presents aren’t always as wonderful as you might expect them to be. But thanks anyway.