Paris Portingale

Christmas: it’s the thought that counts…

(AP Photo/The Canadian Press, Darryl Dyck)

Of the two major celebrations on the Christian calendar – Christmas and Easter – Christmas is by far the more satisfying for me.

Easter is too mired in death and mortality and a father’s broken promise to his son. Think about it – God told Jesus that if he got up on the cross he’d fly down and save him, only of course it was a trick and he didn’t.

No, it’s always been Christmas for me, and most people I know are in agreement, except, of course, my brother-in-law, Ray, who is a total idiot and has made up his own religion where Jesus was a famous sword-fighter and could do miracles like make wine come out of his nose. My brother-in-law, the total idiot, has even made up his own bible, which is quite stupid because even though it’s written in extra big writing, it’s only about three pages long. To his credit though, he has gone to the trouble of including illustrations made with pictures of people cut out of the Woman’s Weekly and some of his old Playboy magazines.

But back to Christmas.

The good thing about Christmas is that, not only does it have God and Jesus, it has Santa Claus as well. I know Easter has the Easter Bunny but you can’t ask for stuff from the Easter Bunny like you can with Santa Claus. Santa Claus lets you send him whole lists of stuff, although you have to be careful not to go overboard like I did that Christmas when I asked for half a dozen prostitutes and ended up with herpes, crabs and that disease nobody can spell.

(It starts with ‘G.’ ‘Gonorear’ I think it is. Santa Claus has a rather twisted sense of humour, particularly when you ask for prostitutes.)

Also with Christmas you get an advent calendar which shows you all the advents that are coming up, which is good if you’re like most people and not 100% clear on the whole advent thing and would like to know where you stand. Of course, my brother-in-law makes up his own advent calendars, the idiot, and all the little doors have pictures he cuts out of his creepy magazines of naked women having sex with animals. Pigs mainly, although you do get the occasional goat.

Sick.

Christmas is also special because it features the birth of Christ in a stable, and the wonderful nativity scene, which, in his own special way, my brother in law usually f*cks up. Below is the nativity scene he did last year using his cousins, Gerontius and Majestica, typical of my brother-in-law, who is a total arse with no respect for anything.

 

Paris Nativity Scene

Ho ho ho…

Christmas has been celebrated down the ages in literature, and no better example would be Charles Dickens’ novel A Christmas Carol. This is the one where the ‘Ghost of Christmas Past’ comes to visit Scrooge and shows him pictures of Tiny Tim, who only has one leg, and takes Scrooge back through all the shitty Christmases he’s had in his life. It goes on like this for another thousand pages, ending up with Scrooge feeling like a real shit and buying Tiny Tim a new bicycle for Christmas. Tiny Tim can’t ride the thing because he’s only got the one leg, but I think the point Dickens is trying to make is it’s the thought that counts, although the idea of giving a crippled kid a bike for Christmas doesn’t seem to me to have had much thought put into it.

Paris.

(footnote: Also, if you want to know why I don’t get on with my brother-in-law it’s because I find him incredibly annoying, and the reason I find him so annoying (apart from everything else) is because he’s got this really stupid, little tiny head. I’m sorry if that makes me look shallow, and I know it’s Christmas and all and I should be nice to him and not such a picky bastard but I think if you saw his head yourself you’d get annoyed as well. Thinking about it, I don’t think I’d like him even if he had a normal head but having that stupid little one really gets on your goat after about five minutes.)

Paris Portingale

Paris Portingale is a writer and dog owner. While having a somewhat indifferent attitude towards abstemious self-restraint, he does follow the safe guidelines of four standard drinks a day, although his standards are a great deal higher than most, certainly the medical profession’s. Paris is visited often in the night by God, and the meetings are anything but pleasant.

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  • grooviechickie

    This is officially the best Sunday ever. Thanks for the LOLs, Paris <3

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