My Twelve Days of Christmas

 

On the run up to Christmas (or ‘The Last Judgement’ by Hireonymus Bosch, as I like to call it) our aural cavities are assaulted by festive tunes a-plenty. Loads of church-y ones from days of yore; pop-y, tacky, tinselly ones from Christmas charts gone by, and ‘Stay’ by East 17. They’re all great, and ramp up the feeling of yuletide cheer/panic beautifully (if you’ve finished your Christmas shopping, please go away and be smug somewhere else). However, I feel that there’s nothing that directly represents life at Christmas as I currently know it. So. Move over Slade. This is MY Christmas.

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
A snotty hanky

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
Two turd-y gloves
and a snotty hanky

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
Three refusals to count to ten
Two turd-y gloves
and a snotty hanky

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
Four new swear words
Three refusals to count to ten
Two turd-y gloves
and a snotty hanky

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
GASTROENTERIIIIITIIIIIIS
Four new swear words
Three refusals to count to ten
Two turd-y gloves
and a snotty hanky

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
Six more hairs greying
GASTROENTERIIIIITIIIIIIS
Four new swear words
Three refusals to count to ten
Two turd-y gloves
and a snotty hanky

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
A tantrum about going swimming
Six more hairs greying
GASTROENTERIIIIITIIIIIIS
Four new swear words
Three refusals to count to ten
Two turd-y gloves
and a snotty hanky

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
An awful sinking feeling
A tantrum about going swimming
Six more hairs greying
GASTROENTERIIIIITIIIIIIS
Four new swear words
Three refusals to count to ten
Two turd-y gloves
and a snotty hanky

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
Nine arguments about Christmas financing
An awful sinking feeling
A tantrum about going swimming
Six more hairs greying
GASTROENTERIIIIITIIIIIIS
Four new swear words
Three refusals to count to ten
Two turd-y gloves
and a snotty hanky

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
Ten weeks of no sleeping
Nine arguments about Christmas financing
An awful sinking feeling
A tantrum about going swimming
Six more hairs greying
GASTROENTERIIIIITIIIIIIS
Four new swear words
Three refusals to count to ten
Two turd-y gloves
and a snotty hanky

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
Continuous bum wiping
Ten weeks of no sleeping
Nine arguments about Christmas financing
An awful sinking feeling
A tantrum about going swimming
Six more hairs greying
GASTROENTERIIIIITIIIIIIS
Four new swear words
Three refusals to count to ten
Two turd-y gloves
and a snotty hanky

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
Twelve gins a numbing
Continuous bum wiping
Ten weeks of no sleeping
Nine arguments about Christmas financing
An awful sinking feeling
A tantrum about going swimming
Six more hairs greying
GASTROENTERIIIIITIIIIIIS
Four new swear words
Three refusals to count to ten
Two turd-y gloves
and a snotty hanky
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