Yes people It's that time of the year again.
Sainsburys are bringing out a special range of grub called 'I can't believe it's Christmas', which is basically the same shit they sell all year round but in special snowy looking packaging and double the price. Kerching!
Well worn phrases are used like, 'It comes around earlier every year', 'Where did the year go' and 'Please give me my job back i didn't mean to call the MD a wanker, try to snog Jane from accounts and expose myself to the entire office at the Christmas party I was drunk'.
Yes you've guessed it. It's The Evans 'Blokes Guide to Christmas'.
I'm not Jewish, Muslim or Christian. I have no religious denomination. I have been brought up in the UK with an orthodox Christian Christmas so all my memories and experiences are based on that. So here is my guide to Christmas.
I will do this like the Christmas advent calendar and post one every day until I reveal the meaning of Christmas on the 25th. So here goes. To begin at the beginning
Planning - when does it start?
Well this is tricky. Either in 400AD with the birth of Christ, or Christmas Eve if your a bloke. It is essential for any bloke to plan well in advance. Christmas doesn't start in December or November. It doesn't even start in October. Oh No, it's starts way back in February when your Mum or Grandmother asks you what you'd like for Christmas dinner. They like to plan ahead. Of course the shops are already plotting ways to extract your cash. I saw my first Xmas decoration just after my birthday in September. Blokes of course don't have to worry about all this shit. For most blokes planning is done around midday on Christmas Eve, either that or leave it to the wife.
Christmas Tree & Decorations
An essential part of any blokes' Christmas. Obviously blokes are concerned about the environment. They read about how harmful it is to the ozone for lots of trees to be cut down. Trees are good for the ozone. But of course blokes don't give a shit about all that PC crap as long as the living room looks good? Blokes like to get a massive tree & lob it out after Christmas. Someone else will surely pick it up right? 100's of poor little trees dumped. Like horticultural homeless.
Of course getting the tree is a blokes job. He goes out to hunt and gather a tree from 'Barry's Xmas Emporium tree sale in a lay by on the A3' and comes back ever so pleased with himself like he's chopped it down himself & killed a bear. This gives blokes a neanderthal satisfaction and a sense of Inclusion at Christmas when all he has done is bought a tree for £40 and stuffed it in the boot of his Volvo.
Blokes of course have absolutely no concept of space or scale so they get the biggest tree they can find, which rarely fits the room. It looks like Hagrid in a mini. Blokes must get pine needles absolutely everywhere with no intention of cleaning them up. Finding them in August. His work is now done. Man got tree. Man bit for Christmas done. Women of course never leave decorating the tree to the bloke. Leaving man in charge of tree will invariably end up in it looking like a Primark window display or a Transvestite.
Blokes will obviously take charge of the external decorations. None of that tasteful classy shit. Blokes will go over the top and put lights everywhere. House, shed, washing line, garage, garden, roof, kids, Nanna and car. It must look like a a runway on LSD. For blokes in a residential neighbourhood it becomes a 'who's got the biggest cock competition'. This is blokes chance to shine and make a name for himself. Unfortunately the name that he makes for himslef is 'cock'.
Christmas Shopping
The ultimate bloke nightmare. It sends Men into cold sweats and panic mode. In today's commercial times with recession, austerity and world problems such as Syria and people less fortunate than ourselves in the west. Blokes have to carefully plan, tighten belts and of course go fucking mental on the Credit Card. Buy a load of shit & worry about the fact you've no money to buy it with After Christmas. Worry about the consequences later when Wonga rates hit 4000% and in January you will have to sell a kidney to fund it all. Blokes never understand all the fuss about Kidneys anyway. It tastes great in a pie.
Blokes simply don't like shopping at the best of times unless it's for a power tool or BBQ stuff. Women on the other hand could shop for 365 days straight. At Christmas blokes generally fall into 2 camps. Ones that truly don't give a shit and bung everyone a tenner or ones who are genuinely dreadful at it but try hard. These are the worst kind. They either buy slut wear or smelly stuff that pongs worse than unwashed cock. Either that or something deeply practical like scented sheets for drawers or a travel cushion. Blokes please note it will make a woman want to kill herself if you buy practical shit at Christmas. Usually blokes have all the romantic appeal of a Motorway service station. It is a well known fact that Blokes are shit at presents. It is the way of the world. Unless of course you are a gay or have committed adultery. Those are the alternatives. Girls beware.
Stores are full of mong twat brain dead men wandering around in a dazed confusion like they are an extra from Dawn of The Dead. This is when shop assistants come in to their own and help out the retarded bastards. Blokes need help. It is the ultimate irony that blokes spend all day thinking about tits and rarely know the size of their woman's.
Then of course girls have to go through the charade of opening the present and forcing a smile and saying 'I love it', whilst quietly going upstairs to cries herself into a catatonic state of melancholy that they are trapped in a relationship with the worlds shittest bloke. Suddenly lonely Singleton becomes more appealing. Once a woman receives bath salts from the body shop from her man it's time for divorce.
For married blokes with kids they do not receive presents anymore. As they no longer count. They are lower in the pecking order than the dog and Turkey. If they are lucky they receive a Top Gear Annual or a blow job. Of course what most Men want for Christmas is anal or a motorbike. But they have more likelihood of seeing Santa Claus than that.
Blokes with kids will of course leave all the Christmas shopping to women. The only thing blokes like buying at Christmas is Booze. This is important to blokes, particularly as they will be drinking most of it. Scotch, vodka, brandy, sherry and strong lager is the undoubted favourite. The only concession to female company is a couple of bottles of wine and some Baileys & Tia Maria. Blokes will of course buy a bottle of advocat in case anyone pops round, knowing full well it's only the clinically insane who ask for an advocat or an alcoholic who has run out of drink.
Man Tip - Buying your woman anything with diamonds in it or Hermes/Laboutin/YSL will mean you are guaranteed anal.
Wrapping Presents
After buying the worlds shittest present. It is a well known fact that blokes or genetically pre disposed to wrap like they've had their hands amputated. A 3 year old monkey on smack could do better. Usually the gift is wrapped like it's been taken apart in the post office as a suspect bomb package. Crumpled and rushed. Blokes have no patience for wrapping. Not only is it a shit present but it's wrapped shit too. A double whammy of shitness that is guaranteed to make his woman depressed. Blokes are more than happy to offer a tenner to a Charity to have them wrapped properly. They are neat and tidy with bows and wrapped with care, precision and love. His woman will of course immediately he has not done them.
The Christmas Party
No Christmas would be complete without 'the party season'. A series of dull festive social gatherings with everyone forcing conviviality and a load of amateurs not holding their drink and using up regular drinkers pub space.
There a several different formats to a Christmas party. For most blokes a Christmas party is the pub. Blokes like Christmas because their heavy drinking is camouflaged by everyone else drinking more. Everyone drinks more at Christmas because, 'well it's Christmas isn't it'
Firstly you have the neighbours Christmas party. A torturous occasion when you are invited to your neighbours house for dull drinks and small talk with people you would rather live somewhere else. It's an orgy of V Neck jumpers and Twiglets. The party equivalent of 'Emmerdale'. If you strike gold and move into a swinging neighbourhood then it takes on a new meaning but on the whole these are best to avoid.
Then you have the ultimate nightmare of 'the works do'. For most blokes this is a great opportunity to get ultra pissed and try to shag someone from accounts. The works do is awful. People you work with but you'd rather go drinking with Saddam Hussein than these lot. A forced meal somewhere with starter of Prawn cocktail or Garlic mushrooms followed by an unloved Xmas dinner and desert of Xmas pudding that looks like roadkill. All with a load of dullards dressed in party hats trying to seem like they're having a good time.
Of course most blokes take it upon themselves to liven things up by doing shots at lunchtime which invariably ends in blackout, disgrace and a P45.
The Posh do. Usually reserved for Wimbledon Village. A grown up Christmas party at some investment bankers house with waiters, canapes, posh frocks and sparkle. Blokes feel uncomfortable in such an environment. Usually because the only drink on offer is vintage champagne not Stella. And they feel uneasy wearing an ill fitting suit from Moss Bros for such an occasion. These occasions are usually only made more interesting after racking up a few lines and snorting them with the wive of the host. This is dangerous and can invariably end in saying inappropriate jokes loudly and embarrassing your partner. Blokes should stick to the pub.
The black tie do. A Christmas ball, normally in a rented tuxedo that barely fits. Either making you look like someone who last wore it in 1984 or like someone who's got Leukemia and lost allot of weight recently. Most blokes think they look like Bond when they put on the tuxedo but actually end up looking like Scalamanga. Blokes can do a Christmas ball for around 3 hours. Then the alcohol kicks in and the dancing. Now for most blokes dancing is a no go when sober. Blokes need on average of 8 pints to be ready to throw some shapes. Then of course blokes believe they are moving like John Travolta when really they are moving more like John Prescott. Still, they dominate the floor, clearing of most of the fit women and end up dancing with other fat pissed blokes in tuxedos to Dexy's Midnight runners.
Inevitably bloke will argue with his woman, fail to notice she looks amazing and abandon her for long periods of time to drink at the bar and then flirt outrageously with a series of short skirted women. This mean that the bloke is dumped, losing his lift home and is then forced to walk 4 miles home in a zig zag fashion with only his Ciro Citerio Tuxedo & Donner kebab for warmth. Of course a 4 mile walk should usually only take 60 minutes but bloke is so drunk he covers 16 miles in a sideways fashion and takes 8 hours. He will receive hypothermia, a hangover and the silent treatment until Xmas morning. Only diamond earrings will get him out of that trouble.
So there you have part 1 of my Christmas Blokes Guide to Christmas Advent. I will post one every day until the big (underwhelming) day on the 25th.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Evans
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