WHETHER you are skint, hungover or fat, blame it all on Jesus’s birthday.
Being skint in January
It is definitely not your fault you spent an absurd amount of money an organic tree, a premium gin advent calendar, an iPad for your toddler and designer gifts for your dog who has no idea what Christmas is.
Everyone knows that during December, mince pies jump into your mouth, extra drinks are poured down your throat and cake, chocolate and leftover roast potatoes chase you around the house with axes until you consume them. Thanks a lot, Jesus.
Being a pisshead
It’s Christmas who will say ‘let’s do shots’ and ‘we should open a fourth bottle of wine because t’is the season to be merry as fuck’. And Christmas will be no help at all when your head feels like it’s filled with gravel and bleach.
Being a shit parent
The kids are up late eating chocolate oranges and slowly turning feral but this is nothing to do with the fact that you had a few sherries at lunchtime and you are too tired to be a parent. Christmas is the head of a vast, multi-national conspiracy to make you look feckless.
Burning down your house
It was Christmas who convinced you to make deep fried tempura prawns for the first time in your life while making vodka and brandy cocktails and playing Red Dead Redemption. And why didn’t Christmas buy a fire extinguisher? Christmas is an untrustworthy son of a bitch.