Take a look at this…
The beverage, which could be served served alone or as a sweet addition to a cup of hot chocolate or coffee, is meant to remind you of all the delicious cookies that were supposed to be left for Santa, but somehow ended up in your belly instead — and it’s already getting rave reviews online.
Source: People.com
Oh my God! Where can I buy this stuff?
A Christmas poem I wrote for a certain white-bearded, ex-Leeds United owner…
Christmas morning did arrive
Young Kenny could not contain his grin
He scampered down his bedroom stairs
To see what his wife had bought himHe passed Susannah a gift from him
She opened it with glee
A piece of coal lay in her hands
How generous was he!She thanked her hubby for the gift
And smiled for quite a while
“You’re so thoughtful, Ken”
Susannah said
Before adding to the coal pileKen asked where abouts his present was,
Susannah said outside
“You’ve always wanted one of these”
His devoted wife repliedKen looked outside right away
A grin grew on his face
For where a push bike once was stood
A private jet lay in its placeLater on, that Festive Day,
Ken asked to watch The Queen
The reception on his Freeview box cut out
Why had be been so mean?A satellite dish from B Sky B, would have cost some money
But would have worked and done the trick
Instead the Her Madge looked quite funnyUp on the roof Ken did climb
To fix the aerial
He remembered not to trip and fall
Like he poor Emu fellowJust as he fixed the thing
He heard something that shook his soul
Turning round, he saw Santa Clause
On his way back to the cold North Pole“You’ve been a naughty boy”
Santa said, in an angry tone
“I’ve listened to your podcasts, and you always bloody moan!”“Arabs this, taxes that, competitions I never win
I don’t know why I bother, Ken
I’m the only one who tunes in”Ken mumbled something about refugees
Which wasn’t very nice
Santa picked him up and held him high
He grip was like a vice“Put me down, you moron”, barked old Mr B
Santa ignored the old man’s demands
And threw him in the seaI don’t know what became of Poor Old Ken,
After he got wet
The rumour is Susannah left with Santa Clause, in a private jet
As you may have seen, the McDonalds Christmas advert was filmed in Bath. Of course, it is all festive and cute. Not very realistic, though. I was expecting to see chavs, in their onesies, flicking fries and the father and his daughter, from another table.
This is my attempt at making my new workplace more festive. I’ve even planned ahead for next year, by buying a 2017 calendar.
It’s all well and good until the office Derby County supporter tears it all down, while I’m on annual leave.
The question is, what Leeds United player should be the fairy on the top?
I always look forward to putting up the Christmas tree and decorations. This is always done far too early – at the end of November – what can I say, I like Christmas. One thing I like equally as much as unpacking the artificial tree from its box – where it had rested, in the garage for the previous 11 months – is disassembling it, come New Year.
It is always exciting when the tree first goes up, and the fibre-optic lights make the whole house seem festive and warm. Once Christmas Day has passed, I rarely bother to turn them on. The tree sits in the corner of the room, looking sorry for its self. Once January arrives, the tree, along with all the other decorations, seems annoying.
This afternoon, I unplugged the tree, before wresting with its plastic frame and branches, so it would come apart into its two or three sections, allowing me to force it into the incredibly small cardboard box, which it originally came in. The box has to then be sealed, to stop the tree bursting out. It is as if the tree has a mind of its own and instead of wanting to go into a dark, damp garage until the end of November, would rather stay in the house, where it is warm, bright and homely. I don’t blame it. But you have to remember, it is a tree – an artificial tree, at that – and trees don’t live in houses. People live in houses. People, dogs and cats – except in our house it is just the former, as we’re not allowed pets.
The Christmas tree is now locked in its box. The decorations and all the other festive crap, which one month ago I thought were cute, are in a pile, waiting to go in another box, which will also be placed in the garage. The last After Eight of the season has been eaten (although I think there may be a second box in a cupboard) and all the generally rubbish Christmas television has been viewed and deleted from the Sky box.
Christmas is over. For another 11 or so months. Thank goodness.
About Me
So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?
If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.
However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.
You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.
All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
