We ask you: What's your family's oddest Christmas tradition?

CHRISTMAS is but days away, and around the country families are getting together to do dizzyingly weird shit they think is normal. What’s your bizarre tradition? 

Bill McKay, subsea welder: “We have a roast penguin instead of a turkey. Christ, the awful, greasy, fish-stinking meat of it, the taste curdling on the tongue. We have it every year.”

Donna Sheridan, receptionist: “Each year, we force my sister’s husband to dress up and act in character as a celebrity we’ve lost that year. This year it’s Ozzy. In 2016 we made him change from Muhammad Ali to George Michael after lunch.”

Julian Cook, actuary: “Go to church. I know, f**king freaky right?”

Susan Traherne, confectioner: “Post-lunch we go for a 16-hour hike in the Cairngorms, ending the following morning. Only then do we open our presents. And we do so one at a time, agonisingly slowly.”

Wayne Hayes, haulier: “Instead of a sixpence in the pudding, one of the crackers has Grandad’s dick pic in. You don’t want that one! Rest in peace, old fella.”

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We visit George Clooney's luxury lakeside Italian villa without being invited

To mark the release of George Clooney’s new movie Jay Kelly, we attempted to gain access to the star’s 18th-century Lake Como villa without being arrested or mauled by guard dogs.

TUCKED away in the picturesque town of Laglio in Lombardy, George Clooney’s $100 million mansion boasts a swimming pool, gym, tennis court and patchy CCTV coverage on its eastern perimeter that allowed us to dig under his fence with ease.

After receiving no response to requests for a sit-down interview with the A-lister, we were left with no choice but to find the blueprints for the house and spend several months plotting a break-in worthy of a heist movie to try and meet the Hollywood icon.

After dashing across the perfectly manicured lawn and rooting through his bins, we jimmied the patio doors and took turns to pose with the Oscar Clooney won for playing that boring, beardy bloke in Syriana, a film none of us managed to watch through to the end.

Exploring the tastefully decorated interior we worked our way upstairs. First we rifled through Amal’s walk-in wardrobe to find any bits we could resell on Vinted. Then it was down into the garage to have a sit on some of Gorgeous George’s extensive collection of vintage motorbikes.

Alas – there was no sign of the man himself. A fact confirmed by his housekeeper, who, after coming at us with a kitchen knife, eventually just screamed ‘Meester Clooney, not here’ before darting into one of the property’s many, well-appointed panic rooms.

After leaving a hurried love note on some expensive looking stationery, we grabbed a Golden Globe each, unhooked some framed ER scrubs from the wall, made our excuses to a confused Italian butler and let ourselves out.

A brief confrontation with two German Shepherds was the only painful downside to our visit, but with several pairs of Mr Clooney’s famous underpants stuffed in our pockets we considered the trip a success.

The trip cost £850 including return flights to Bergamo, balaclavas and pepper spray. Reviews for Jay Kelly have been mixed.