So December 1st was yesterday. I guess I totally missed it, because I’ve been walking around in shorts. I hate wearing shorts at the best of times. So would you if you had skinny little white chicken legs. I don’t have any facial hair, tiny legs and female wrists. This is all because I shared myself with my twin sister in our mothers womb. I should have been 6ft, stacked and ripped, with designer stubble and rugged good looks. That was cut in half. Thanks Lindsay…
It’s that time of year again isn’t it? Jack Frost nipping at your nose, faces numb, carol singing, the brass band under the street light in the snow…
Mum and Dad.
Not here. Here it’s 30 degrees. Here my family traditions are non existent. I’ve not even heard a Christmas song yet. For years I’ve raged at hearing Christmas songs in retail outlets at the beginning of November. I’d give anything to hear one now. Even Wizzard. But not Slade. Dear God not Slade…’shudder’.
Speaking of Christmas songs, I always knew Santa was on his way when I heard ‘Fairytale in New York’. The Pogues festive song is, and will always remain, the finest yuletide tune there is. ‘Band Aid’ a close second; In spite of Bono. “Twas Christmas Eve babe…” brings a tear to my eye every year. Folks back home will have heard it already; I’m treated to constant renditions of ‘Guantanamera’.
We really don’t know what we have until it’s gone.
Dreaming of a white Christmas
So December 1st was yesterday. I guess I totally missed it, because I’ve been walking around in shorts. I hate wearing shorts at the best of times. So would you if you had skinny little white chicken legs. I don’t have any facial hair, tiny legs and female wrists. This is all because I shared myself with my twin sister in our mothers womb. I should have been 6ft, stacked and ripped, with designer stubble and rugged good looks. That was cut in half. Thanks Lindsay…
It’s that time of year again isn’t it? Jack Frost nipping at your nose, faces numb, carol singing, the brass band under the street light in the snow…
Mum and Dad.
Not here. Here it’s 30 degrees. Here my family traditions are non existent. I’ve not even heard a Christmas song yet. For years I’ve raged at hearing Christmas songs in retail outlets at the beginning of November. I’d give anything to hear one now. Even Wizzard. But not Slade. Dear God not Slade…’shudder’.
Speaking of Christmas songs, I always knew Santa was on his way when I heard ‘Fairytale in New York’. The Pogues festive song is, and will always remain, the finest yuletide tune there is. ‘Band Aid’ a close second; In spite of Bono. “Twas Christmas Eve babe…” brings a tear to my eye every year. Folks back home will have heard it already; I’m treated to constant renditions of ‘Guantanamera’.
We really don’t know what we have until it’s gone.