Walking in a Onesie Wonderland

It’s the 15th of January and my hangover shakes have only just subsided enough for me to type. I am usually pretty happy at this time of year because Christmas is over and I can get back to being an unsociable Skyrim-raping bastard, however this year I am actually on a bit of a downer. The reason for this uncharacteristic post-festive depression is because I actually had a lot of fun this year. It’s true! I have discovered that it is entirely possible to have a relaxing and enjoyable Christmas – and all you have to do is follow this one simple step:
 
-Wake up on Christmas morning and say to yourself: “Today I am going to do whatever the fuck I want”.
 
It really works, I tried it this year and this is what happened:

I woke up on Christmas morning in my mum’s house in Cyprus. I handed Billy, Lisa, Dan and my mum a onesie each, which I had previously purchased from Primark (for those of you who don’t know what a onesie is – it is basically a baby-grow for adults, complete with attached feet). Lisa was a penguin, my mum was a zebra, I was a cow, Dan was a gangster-baby and Billy was a kind of paedophile-snowflake.

Once onesied-up, we headed downstairs and sat by the Christmas tree in front of the log fire (turns out it can be a bit chilly in Cyprus in December) where we proceeded to open all of our presents. As you can see from the photos, our gifts and cards reflected the deep and profound emotions we feel towards each other:

When all the presents were opened we headed into the kitchen where we cooked dinner together (still in our onesies). Our dinner was accompanied with Grey Goose vodka and freshly-squeezed orange juice which had come from the oranges we stole from a farm the day before (we literally parked the car at the side of the road and ran into a random orange-grove armed with an empty shopping bag each. Most of us at least tried to steal oranges that had fallen on the ground as they would have gone to waste anyway. Not Lisa. She managed to find a basket of oranges that someone had actually worked hard to harvest and emptied it into her bag. I think the orange-picker guy had only gone for a cigarette).

Anyway, back to dinner. We put our Christmas hats on and ate FAR too much, laughed a lot, farted even more and put away enough Buck’s Fizz to ensure that none of our organs are considered donatable. After we couldn’t take anymore, the inevitable sleepiness started to creep in. Usually this is the point where I am so bloated that the dress I reluctantly squeezed myself into earlier that day now makes me look like a plastic-bag overly stuffed with awkward-shaped meat. I then have to talk to people that I haven’t seen since the previous Christmas without spewing into their eyes every time I take a sip of the circa-1965 booze that someone kindly donated from the back of their dead grandma’s cupboard.

Not this year. This year I was doing whatever the fuck I wanted – and I wanted to curl up in a ball and let literally everything hang out until this wave of over-indulgence had subsided. As if reading my mind, my mum then told us to go and look behind the sofa. We did as she asked and there, pressed up against the wall, were two airbeds. Two fucking airbeds! There were angel noises playing in my head. We immediately pumped them up, brought our duvets down from upstairs and arranged ourselves around the TV in a kind of disgusting human-amphitheatre, sheltering from the meat-sweats in our beautiful new Christmassy refugee camp. We passed the rest of the evening watching Team America and the odd episode of Eastbound & Down. It really was a ridiculously spectacular day.

Now, some people may think that this is inappropriate (and slightly repulsive) behaviour for Christmas, but 100% of the people I have talked to about my day have said the exact same thing:

“That sounds amazing, I wish my Christmas was like that.”

What I don’t understand is, if everyone wishes their Christmas was like that, then why isn’t it? Clearly we would all rather eat shit-loads of carbs and spend an entire day on an airbed in our pyjamas than do the formal family gathering so favoured by the average human, so why do we put ourselves through it? When I have kids and everyone starts coming round to mine, immediately upon stepping through the door they will be handed a onesie, an airbed pump and a glass of Buck’s Fizz – and this will set the tone for the rest of the day.

Since making the decision to do whatever the fuck I want on Christmas day, not only does it suddenly seem tolerable, I am actually actively looking forward to it. In fact, if all goes to plan, this Christmas might even overtake the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee as my favourite holiday of the year.  If this sounds like your kind of day too, then I suggest you sit your family down and tell them that this Christmas you are doing whatever the fuck you want, and you will be doing it all day long.  If they don’t like it, then I’ll see you round ours!

 Bring cake.

Lisa’s Pieces – Gingwa & Friends

Lisa phoned a bar/restaurant to book a table for dinner.  When she got there, this is what she found on her table:

Lisa Gingwa? I thought I was supposed to be the Chinese one.

Does Gingwa sound anything like Dingwall?  I really dont think it does. It sounds more like the name of a spray to keep gingers away:

“Too many gingers in your vicinity?  Try ‘Gingwa’ – the new environmentally friendly ginger repellant from Johnson & Johnson.”

I’ve been called Mr. Bingwall by Sky Customer Services before but I have never had anyone mishear it this badly. 

Also, I’m not sure how happy I am about the management inviting complete strangers to use their arses to keep my seat warm.  I would prefer a cold, stranger-arse free seat I think.

Lisa’s Pieces – Evil Swans

I hate swans.  Really, really hate swans.  I got attacked by a swan on a golf course in Florida in 1993. Had to kick it in the face.  

Another incident occured at a beach party one night in the Bridge of Don a couple of years ago.  A swan decided to start flying around in the pitch dark right next to me but I couldn’t see anything so when I heard the sound of its freakishly large wings hitting the water I thought we were being attacked by terrorists with sawn-off shotguns. I tried to throw bits of bonfire at it but it didn’t care, they aren’t scared of anything.

It is with some disgust, therefore, that I am posting the latest of Lisa’s pictures sent to me on purpose from a park of some description:

Disgusting

I can see Lisa’s boyfriend Dan’s foot in the corner!  He’s far too close. They don’t want your bread Dan, they want your soul.  Kick them in the face!!

If you still think that you like swans, here are some swany facts that may make you change your mind:

photo courtesy of richardhellergallery.com

-They can fly as fast as 50 to 60 miles per hour.
-Some have a wing span of 10 feet.
-Adult males have been known to use a blow from the “knucklebone” of their wing to defend their family.
-This blow is said to be strong enough to break a man’s arm.
-The adult male is the only known bird to have a penis.

So, not only are they fast, large and violent beasts capable of breaking bones with their feathery knucklebone-uppercuts, they are also potential rapists. I fucking knew it!

God, imagine getting raped by a swan…

There would be a lot of blinking.

Continue reading

2010 – The Gaming Tramp in Review

I have just received the annual review (well from November anyway) of my blog from WordPress and according to their ‘helper monkeys’ I am “fresher than ever”. After a week of solid drinking, I can assure you that I have definitely been fresher.  They also state that I have uploaded 73 photos when it was more like 7 and are there not 52 weeks in a year as opposed to 73?  Monkeys, you are here to supply us with something to test our cosmetics on and I suggest you stick to that.  How can you expect to be good at statistics?  You can’t do maths with perfume in your eyeballs silly!

Anyway, one of the statistics below states that the equivalent of three full 747s have read my blog. Now that is all well and good until you realise that the last plane I was on was an Easyjet flight from Ibiza so half the passengers couldn’t read and the other half had a mutated form of genital herpes mixed with leprosy.

I think what the helper monkeys are really trying to say is:
“2010 was a great year for you and your blog – if you like highly contagious, occasionally terminal venereal diseases which have been incubated within Easyjet-flying, bareback-riding, hair-extension chewing, pill-popping, skanky crack whores on a foam-party themed hen weekend…………..with their newborn children.”

Thank God I love all those things!

On a side note, one of my top 5 referring sites is google.de. Is that not German Google? Why are Germans reading my blog? Germans! Why are you reading my blog? Were you on that Easyjet flight? I don’t know what you want from me but if it’s what I’m thinking then forget it. We all know what happened the last time you tried that.

—————————————————————————–

“The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a summary of its overall blog health:

Healthy blog!

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Fresher than ever.

Crunchy numbers

Featured image

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 1,400 times in 2010. That’s about 3 full 747s.

In 2010, there were 29 new posts, not bad for the first year! There were 73 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 22mb. That’s about a picture per week.

The busiest day of the year was November 21st with 103 views. The most popular post that day was Why I Heart the Dart.

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were facebook.com, WordPress Dashboard, mail.live.com, twitter.com, and google.de.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for the gaming tramp, gaming tramp, christmas cameltoe, decision points itunes, and christmas camel toe.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

1

Why I Heart the Dart November 2010
1 comment

2

Scotland – Stop Growing on Me Like a Fungus December 2010
2 comments

3

Heat Magazine – Shut the Hell Up December 2010

4

About me November 2010
2 comments

5

Lisa’s Pieces – Mr Bison & the Bareback Sandwich December 2010
3 comments”

The Ugliest Dog in the World? Yes.

 I was casually reading the newspaper the other day when, without warning, this violated my eyes:

What the hell is that?  After I calmed down I read on and discovered that his name is Doug and he is completely, swear-to-God, medically retarded.  According to his new owner “he keeps walking into things”.  I want a retarded dog that walks into things!  I want Doug!