Holiday Classics

This holiday season, I hope everyone's remembering to focus on the important things, like steering clear of dodgy roast goose (Laura has food poisoning, poor thing) not macing any relatives who might put you in their wills, and not getting pregnant atop piles of coats unless it's on purpose. Having once again attended the Holiday Party from Hell, I was reminded of this immortal passage from Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason. Helen Fielding has her detractors, but they are wankers.

Usually, week before Christmas, am hung over and hysterical, furious with self for not escaping to tiny woodman's cottage deep in forest to sit quietly by fire; instead of waking up in huge, throbbing, mountingly hysterical city with population gnawing off entire fists at thought of work/cards/present deadlines, getting trussed up like chickens in order to sit in gridlocked streets, bellowing like bears at newly employed minicab drivers for trying to locate Soho Square using map of central Addis Ababa, then arrive at parties to be greeted by same group of people have seen for last three nights only three times more drunk and hungover, and want to shout "WILL YOU ALL JUST SOD OFF!" and go home....This attitude is both negative and wrong.