Cuentin's Christmas Countdown

Earlier in the week, I awoke with a tremendous hangover, and staggered through the streets in search of something hot and sticky. Once I’d gotten my hands on a couple of croissants, I looked around and noticed that bright flashy lights and glittery decorations adorned major thoroughfares and public buildings. After a moment wondering if it was time for Gay Pride, I realised that no semi-clad men were likely to cavort on the street in this weather, however many drugs they’ve taken, and then it came to me: it’s that time of year again, isn’t it? The gentle tinkling of bells, or is it the sound of cash registers across the city going ker-ching, ker-ching, and harassed parents dragged through stores by their little darlings, screeching and screaming… when they discover what those toys cost.

Christmas comes, but once a year is more than enough. I ought to be fond of it, since it’s responsible for one of my favourite fictional characters and role models, Ebenezer Scrooge, although I’ve always thought that ‘A Christmas Carol’ was completely ruined by the ending- as if three nocturnal visitors are going to change the habits of a lifetime: I had four nocturnal visitors on one memorable occasion back in 1999, and the only difference I felt the next day was when I went for a shi… anyway, as I was saying, it’s completely implausible: none of that reformed character nonsense for me.

As mentioned, I propose a little posting every day between now and the end of this year, so expect a few pieces on the subject of Christmas itself and a list of gifts that you might like to surprise me with… won’t that be a treat?

What was that, readers? You would like a little something in return for visiting my bloguette every day, would you? Perhaps a little quiz about me? Oh, alright then.

What, you'd like something in addition to a quiz and a posting every single day? I think that’s a little greedy… no, of course there is nothing wrong with that, we’re all human. But what did you have in mind exactly?

A little something to look forward to under the tree on Christmas morning? What about a little gay Dicken-sin-ian fable to read as you sit trying to cope with your own miserable families; a little something to read aloud when nephews and nieces are making too much noise, and you want to frighten them so much that they shut up?

Go on… ask nicely, then.