Like the gynaecologist who sees so much pussy day in day out that the last thing he wants to see when he gets home is the one belonging to his long-suffering wife, I’ve been doing so much copywriting lately that updating this lil blog o’ mine has fallen down the list of my priorities. Not that I’m complaining about the workload; it’s nice to feel like I’m actually using my degree for something and working from home definitely has its advantages, especially in the winter months.
And due to the weather, work, and the UK’s oft-blamed public transport system, it looks like my Brighton home is where I’ll be nestled this Christmas. Enjoying the sound of silence (which could’ve been a blog post all of its own, but one that would’ve indubitably fallen upon deaf ears, ho ho), interspersed with “Jingle Bells” as brought to you by animals of Youtube:
and this amazing mash-up of every Christmas tune ever from the prolific Casetteboy which more than capably fulfils my need for an injection of Christmassy schmaltz.
Prior to Annual Gift Day itself, I’ve got some clock burning to do and a sex shop party I may attend, so life’s far from dull. And why celebrate the birth of a person I’m unsure whether I actually believe in the existence of anyway. Spending the day in quiet reflection seems appropriate, even if that reflection happens to be my mug in the bath tub taps or television screen.
What I am sure of is seeing some of my friends and family, somehow, before 2010 is over, that I hope everyone gets the Christmas they deserve wherever they may be, whomever they may be with, and that I wish a prosperous 2011 to all.