Handjobs, Handouts, and Hampers

Handjobs, Handouts, and Hampers.

So! Here we are again.

It's CHRISTMAS, hooray!!!

A time for the inevitable christmas party, whether it's works or at home. It's all fun.
Copping off with the office staff, if you're lucky, (don't worry about my wife seeing this post. She is one of the office staff, where I work. So, it's acceptable for me to say that).
But, having said that, there is John who works in the office aswell, and I don't really fancy a fumble of his tits in a darkened store cupboard. It doesn't matter how many sweet sherry's I've had. Does anybody really drink that shite anymore?

Anyway, I digress.

The works christmas party.
For some, a chance to drunkenly letch over the female members of staff, with the hope that they're hammered enough too, to reciprocate.
Some do.
Fortunately, they are brought back to their senses in time for them to see their, expensive but rich, buffet food, launch itself into the open mouth of the awaiting deviant.
Obviously you have the odd brown noser, who steers clear of the open bloused secretarial type, leaning provocatively over her desk, and heads straight for the boss's zipper.
A 'gentleman's handshake' later, and that bastard's got a bulge in his top pocket bigger than the one he's just 'finished off'.

You've got to love the workplace...

-

Then. It's off to the shops the next day.

Streets full of stamping and stumbling bastards, making their way, (like festive zombies), towards the ever-filling, sardine can shops.
I feel like shouting. 'Don't pay by card, you fumbling F*ck. Have the foresight to get some cash out, before you come shopping, you Half- witted, No brained, F*ck-stick.'
At the last minute, I stop myself. It's christmas after all.
Jesus died on the cross to save this F*cking Cretin, too.
Then I'm out. Free at last.
Only to have to do the 'dance of the seven veils', whilst trying to avoid the canvassers, or the tramp with the penny whistle, (not really. I kind of like them. They're out, putting on a show, whether drunk or not, it doesn't really matter to me. So I give them a little something) or the one that sits on the pavement, making art on the flagstones with his faeces.
Then home.
To the safety of your christmas castle.

Then.
-

For a reason unknown to me. Some people enjoy a hamper at christmas.
I personally have never seen the allure of filling up a wicker basket with all the sh*t that you would never eat at any other time of the year. Then, presenting it, for all to see...as a present.
What the F*ck???
You may as well just put a dog turd in a chip wrapper, then place it down delicately on the festive dining table.

I do actually love everything about christmas.
Those who know me, know that it keeps me sane.
Apart from maybe a bit of the above.

MERRY CHRISTMAS.

Ho!

Ho!

Ho!