My lamest Christmas I had in a share house, naturally, in the scrappy half-arsed rainforest hanging off the back end of Mt Cootha, west of Brisbane. It was a pretty good share house – one of the better ones, at least. Nobody got stoned and urinated in the vegetable crisper. There was a smaller-than-usual number of goats’ heads nailed to the living room wall.
My brother Andrew and I found ourselves there, alone, right about this time of year when all the other housemates had skived off home to their families. Our parents, both still alive back then, had skived off home to the UK, and we were batching it. Or whatever the share house equivalent is called when you have two hapless men-children trying to fend for themselves at Christmas.
What fending we did do mainly went into securing a stupidly expensive short-term rental on a video machine, this being a time before the internet delivered us all from boredom but directly into the wide-open maw of cultural desolation and mass psychosis.
In my memory, Christmas that year was a Friday. It was about 4.43 PM Thursday when we looked in the fridge and realized Christmas dinner was shaping up to be a feast of mayo-gone-bad, mystery Chinese leftovers (also bad) and half a carton of milk in transition to a new life as half a carton of cottage cheese.
Better go to the shop, we agreed.
The shop was a 7-11, eight minutes walk away, giving us plenty of time to get there before it closed at five.
To our surprise and disappointment, there were no cheap Turkeys or last-minute door-buster sales of Christmas puddings, leaving us to enjoy a loaf of stale bread with a single packet of Primo ham or ham-adjacent pig product for our Yuletide repast. They did have half a dozen rental videos, so we took our feast home and enjoyed our slimy ham on stiff bread with the lesser works of Humphrey Bogart.
Being Queensland, Christmas Day was a death march through a horror swamp of murderous heat and testicle-soup humidity. Being idiots, we’d forgotten to buy beer.
I can think of worse Christmases. Like, literally. The previous year, Santa brought me a craptacular breakup of such arse-puckering intensity that when I walked up to the shop to buy my slimy ham, the incel stick insect on the register looked directly at me deep into my tortured soul and said, “Don’t worry mate. She’s not worth it.”
That was a suboptimal Christmas, but we did make it home for a proper meal and a family catch-up. The following year? Yeah, Nah. Not so much.
I do hope you get better than a slice of pinkmeat on a white trash burrito, although I look back on that Christmas now with perverse fondness. Sometimes to get to The Treasure of the Sierra Madre you gotta go through The Two Mrs Carrolls.
I know for a laydown certainty that I’ve got Buckley’s chance of filing a column this Friday. I learned that lesson a long time ago, along with just how much listeria you can get from half a carton of lumpy milk. So I’m not even going to try.
I’mma take a week or so off to decompress and think of some new swear words. But I might collect this year’s columns into a free ebook for you when I return to my desk after New Year’s.
Time for awkward real talk now, though. Thank you all for hanging around here for the last few years. It means a lot to me. It also means a lot that the responses you leave in the comments are always so well-considered and thoughtfully expressed. It is possible to have nice things on the internet, in spite of Elon Musk’s best efforts.
Thankyou for giving a shit, John. And for educating me on things I might've otherwise compartmentalised or straight avoided. You've become part of my life because a friend found you so insanely fressssssh that she made me subscribe. And now, when I come across things you have referenced, instead of flinching, I can conjure up one of the many fabulous swearwords you've gifted us all. One instance was at Brisbane airport yesterday. A murderous looking bloke with big words on his T-shirt: I'm not unvaccinated, I'm a pure blood.
Thank you for being part of the mesh of good people around us (online and in person), that gets us through times when we need to be tolerant of fuckknuckles.
You deserve extra of everything this festival season.
And a happy Festival to you Mr B. The missus always knows when I’m reading your musings when I snarfle and snortle unbidden. Looking forward to blowing some more coffee out through my nose in 2023. Have a well deserved break.
My wife and I have been giving Christmas cards for a long time, to our adult rellies, and toys for the kiddilies, from a scheme originating with the Salvo's. Each card acts as a receipt for twenty bucks, each one stating that you have provided a homeless person with meal, or a bed for the night etc. Of course there's a fiscal motive, in that they can claim a Christmas card on their tax! A tax loophole that not even the Delaware boy's accountants had thought of, not that they would stoop help the poor and powerless anyway., Plus it means we don't have to elbow our way through Westfield to buy some baubles or trinkets that give us an overdraft.
We are not religiously inclined, we just think that our money should go to those whose hand of cards, that they were dealt, won't scoop the pot in the middle of the table, and not the shareholders of the mega corporations, the've got too much of our money already.
This idea of altruism threads its way through time itself. From the Magi, to medieval times, even the villagers, and the laird of the manor, gave food to the peons and serfs, to tide them through the winter months, a selfless gift if ever their's one. The cynical might say that this generous act is admirable, but in reality they need someone to plant the seeds and harvest the crops in the spring.
Humanity is a beast wrought with contradictions, but in the end we bring joy, and a sense of hope to all strata of society at this time of year.
JB your missives give us pause to muse on aspects of life, that would otherwise have escaped our daily drudge, it certainly does to mine.
As Boggy said,"play it (again) Sam", I hope you do too in the new year JB.
I hope you can have a good, relaxing Christmas and wind down properly. I don't miss Brisbane humidity or toxic family gatherings but Melbourne is blessedly free of both. There'll be craft beers, single malts and much hilarity. And ham. Always ham.
Merry Christmas JB. Love your work, but you deserve a break. See you in the new year. I'll be toasting you with a large glass of Macallan... several large glasses. It's the only thing that gets me through Christmas. xxx
Thanks John. Good to know there have been worse Xmasses than the one I had as a kid when I got a second hand soccer ball. But I still look back fondly...can't bear to look ahead.
Thanks for the rants and new swear words. Looking forward to more in 2023.
One of my clearer memories of a fundamentalist Protestant upbringing childhood was that (a) that Christmas got the full pagan festival analysis from the pastor at the nearest Sabbath sermon beforehand, and (b) that my otherwise duped mother filled our pillowcases (not stockings - only good for holding gold sovereigns) with all the things that the other mystery of Christmas, Santa Claus, could bring to little boys. While departing that mad "faith" - no room for symbolism or metaphor - I sat in St Mary's Cathedral in Sydney beneath the august figure of Cardinal Sir Norman Thomas Gilroy then around my age now - though I was just 18 then - checking out the opposition I was - a fairly reasonable Christmas Day sermon as I recall. But of the kind of Christmas you recall, John - nothing! How well you described it all, though. Merry Festive Greetings to you and yours and to all your gang here on this site!
Thanks for all of your words, John. Chosen impeccably, arranged masterfully and invented with absolute gusto. Always.
As I get older, I can't tell if the events of an average earth year are getting more gruesome or if I'm just more aware/informed/soft.
2022 has hit me right in the feelings for reasons both macro and micro, and your lens has helped my modern-man-fool thought-process processing.
Raised involuntary Catholic, my athiest self likes my family too much to not observe Christmas with them and their odd rituals. I resent this period every year for forcing false deadlines and focussing us all on buying shit when no such shit is needed. Luckily I love Boxing Day, for its collective hangover vibes and unabashed cricket glancing.
And maybe also because it means Christmas is over... for another earth year.
Thanks for an awesome year of Friday feeds. Feels like being part of a another family as highly intelligent and yet dysfunctional as my real family! 😃You are like my super witty and smart big brother. Have an amazing break.
I realise it's been several years in a row when at this time I'm wishing the month would just fast forward so the new, far better, year would start. Here's hoping that 2023 is the first of an incredibly long run of years we finally get right.
Thanks for another year of laugh-out-loud wit mixed with insight, Birmo. Very glad to have found your little corner of the electronsphere.
And Happy Hyperconsumption Holiday to all! I hope you're able to enjoy a pleasant and relaxed time with your families and significant others. I'm not big on Xmas, but my partner loves it, so I will get in the spirit for her. See you all next year.
Can't manage well-expressed just now, but genuinely appreciate all you write. Both this blog and your books are enjoyed, each in their own way, and great pleasure to read. Thank you John.
Dec 21, 2022·edited Dec 21, 2022Liked by John Birmingham
Merry Everything, Birmo. Back in the day, (late 80's early 90's) there was a thing called ShareWare and PostcardWare, where people wrote software and included in the code their postal address, and said send me money or a postcard if you can afford it. As a teenager I was deeply impressed by this, and managed to scavenge AUD, USD, GBP, Francs or Kroner from various people returning from holidays, and send it on in envelopes with a lot of hope the software writer had no moved addresses. I enjoy receiving my AuthorWare from you, and hope my spare AUD help fund the GPH bills, and thought I would relate this memory in the comments as a digitally updated form of Postcard. Cheers, Looking forward to 2023, Bart
Merry Christmas JB to, my first Christmas back here after years back in Liverpool but the Brissy heat here in Taringa! Humidity yuk! Have a great break, all the best from the original second lifer!
Thank you for your fabulous musings. Have a healthy and happy 2023. We have treated ourselves to 2 x 3 month old male Maremma/Border Collie pups. They will keep us distracted from the doom and gloom of the news and healthy to boot.
Bestivus Christmas Ever to you and yours. And my fellow boobers or whatever we're called ha. Yeah, forgotten in my christmas joy delerium. Oh, burgers. We're like burgers. hmm. Cool.
Stream of conciousness writing. Great. *facepalm*
Enjoy, get plenty of cat naps all or dog naps or whatever. Good god this political correctness is a bit bothersome aint it.
Redo from start.
Bestivus Christmas Ever to my fellow readers, you and yours.
Enjoy some cat naps (god knows I will) and this cool cartoon (by Dr Kim Lam) I just saw on the ABC email subscription.
Merry Festivus! Long live the past sell by anonymous pink meat. I had a very similar xmas season to your anecdote.....except I did find a bottle of (2litres!!) execrable cooking sherry in the back of the otherwise deserted pantry...score!
Merry Christmas John - your articles have been an absolute joy to read. Can't wait for the next year of new swear words. If I was richer and my rent hadn't just gone up $40 bucks a week I would buy you a beer, but for now just know its the thought that counts. Cheers Alien Sideboob - stay safe and have fun :)
Happy Christmas to you and yours, JB, as I sit here on a rocking chair binge-reading Designated Targets. This is a rare break on my now traditional whirlwind interstate road trip of visiting family. I hope you have a restful break and look forward to more words of yours in the new year. Peace!
Merry (fill in the blank) everyone. I've enjoyed my tenure here. I'll share a couple of sentences about one of my sweetest childhood Christmas celebrations, JB has inspired me. My dad was mysteriously absent for a while, and then when he got back we started eating these grey, uniform hamburger patties day in, day out. On Christmas morning, I got a 99 cent bag of plastic Army men. And then we ate hamburger patty transformed into a meatloaf. With real ketchup.
It wasn't until I was in my thirties that someone told me dad had been in jail that December, and the hamburger patties were from a McDonald's truck wreck he had witnessed (he was a truck driver, too). He grabbed one of the scattered boxes of frozen patties from the highway, and that's what we ate.
I'm in transit to a family Christmas right as I write. We gather every four years. There are so many of us we use sport life and rec camps, usually near Lennox Head. Mid this year the relevant body cancelled our booking because people who lost their homes in the floods are now living in the camp. Well, can't complain about losing a booking when those poor sods have lost their homes. So now we're going to some place near Tamworth. Different, and hopefully not as humid as the proposed alternative on the Sunshine Coast.
Have a good one, John, and a better up-coming year. Looking forward to reading you again.
“the incel stick insect on the register looked directly at me deep into my tortured soul and said, “Don’t worry mate. She’s not worth it.”” 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 Merry Christmas John and thanks for all the laughs
Slimy meat and dry bread is not a very christmasy combo, nor are gut wrenching break-ups that propel us into a state of barely existing beyond the exertion involved in natural bodily functions (see my 2021 Christmas). T’is the week before Christmas and I’ve been wholly sucker-punched by the combination of last minute urgent work demands and emails from the rental agency demanding to know my lease renewal plans (so they can presumably increase my rent, yet again, to more than half my weekly income…at this point, I feel like I only work to pay off my landlord’s mortgage). Hopefully - if I can pull my finger out, get over the 2020-22 trauma, get a new passport and make some plans - I might even get out of this hellhole of a country to experience something more exciting than an unexpected bus delay, or the surprise of mouldy tofu when I open the packet to cook my stir fry.
You, my friend, are a treasure, and someone who pulls us out of our everyday malaise to laugh, scoff, concur, and muse on your words. There is a camaraderie between Birmo Boobers where we share a particular sense of irreverent humour, and you, kind sir, are our bra; always there, always supportive, and nice to look at. I wish you and your family (including the furry members) a merry Christmas xxxx
For many years, Christmas was a quiet lunch with me and Dad. I'd catch the last plane to Cairns on Christmas Eve, get a taxi from the airport and disturb Dad from his slumber in front of a concert DVD. Ham and eggs for brekky, prawns, cold roast turkey and ham for lunch. Fend for yourself after that. Christmas 2019 my sister brought Dad's only grandchild - all of 11 months old - back to Australia to meet Grandad so we had the big family Christmas. Then the plague struck. I quite enjoyed my 2020 lockdown Christmas of cheese on toast in front of a DVD marathon (three forbidden pleasures). Then Dad died so Christmas 2021 was a repeat of 2020 - preferable to the many kind invitations. This year will be the full chaos of an extended family Christmas - gawd help me. See how I go.
Thanks for another year of your insights into the non-stop crazy. Appreciate you sticking with us JB. Enjoy a Balvenie or two, some chrissy cake, left out for Santa Christmas morning.
Thankyou for giving a shit, John. And for educating me on things I might've otherwise compartmentalised or straight avoided. You've become part of my life because a friend found you so insanely fressssssh that she made me subscribe. And now, when I come across things you have referenced, instead of flinching, I can conjure up one of the many fabulous swearwords you've gifted us all. One instance was at Brisbane airport yesterday. A murderous looking bloke with big words on his T-shirt: I'm not unvaccinated, I'm a pure blood.
Thank you for being part of the mesh of good people around us (online and in person), that gets us through times when we need to be tolerant of fuckknuckles.
You deserve extra of everything this festival season.
Mwah!
When all else fails fried spam n eggs is near heaven.
A dash of chilli to you all🎉
Felicitations! I've long abandoned the Christmas and New Year FOMO, my entire plans are limited to a case of Reschs, handful of prawns and wet feet.
And a happy Festival to you Mr B. The missus always knows when I’m reading your musings when I snarfle and snortle unbidden. Looking forward to blowing some more coffee out through my nose in 2023. Have a well deserved break.
Happy Sol Invictus to one and all. May Krampus bless your enemies with his demonic, vengeful presence.
My wife and I have been giving Christmas cards for a long time, to our adult rellies, and toys for the kiddilies, from a scheme originating with the Salvo's. Each card acts as a receipt for twenty bucks, each one stating that you have provided a homeless person with meal, or a bed for the night etc. Of course there's a fiscal motive, in that they can claim a Christmas card on their tax! A tax loophole that not even the Delaware boy's accountants had thought of, not that they would stoop help the poor and powerless anyway., Plus it means we don't have to elbow our way through Westfield to buy some baubles or trinkets that give us an overdraft.
We are not religiously inclined, we just think that our money should go to those whose hand of cards, that they were dealt, won't scoop the pot in the middle of the table, and not the shareholders of the mega corporations, the've got too much of our money already.
This idea of altruism threads its way through time itself. From the Magi, to medieval times, even the villagers, and the laird of the manor, gave food to the peons and serfs, to tide them through the winter months, a selfless gift if ever their's one. The cynical might say that this generous act is admirable, but in reality they need someone to plant the seeds and harvest the crops in the spring.
Humanity is a beast wrought with contradictions, but in the end we bring joy, and a sense of hope to all strata of society at this time of year.
JB your missives give us pause to muse on aspects of life, that would otherwise have escaped our daily drudge, it certainly does to mine.
As Boggy said,"play it (again) Sam", I hope you do too in the new year JB.
Now what did I do with that bottle of Gordons?
I hope you can have a good, relaxing Christmas and wind down properly. I don't miss Brisbane humidity or toxic family gatherings but Melbourne is blessedly free of both. There'll be craft beers, single malts and much hilarity. And ham. Always ham.
Have a good break! Take 2 weeks if it results in better swear words :) (take as long as you like - I'm not your mum...)
Merry Christmas JB. Love your work, but you deserve a break. See you in the new year. I'll be toasting you with a large glass of Macallan... several large glasses. It's the only thing that gets me through Christmas. xxx
Thanks John. Good to know there have been worse Xmasses than the one I had as a kid when I got a second hand soccer ball. But I still look back fondly...can't bear to look ahead.
Thanks for the rants and new swear words. Looking forward to more in 2023.
Enjoy the break.
Hope you get some crunchy roast potatoes, the one Xmas tradition I cling onto no matter what
One of my clearer memories of a fundamentalist Protestant upbringing childhood was that (a) that Christmas got the full pagan festival analysis from the pastor at the nearest Sabbath sermon beforehand, and (b) that my otherwise duped mother filled our pillowcases (not stockings - only good for holding gold sovereigns) with all the things that the other mystery of Christmas, Santa Claus, could bring to little boys. While departing that mad "faith" - no room for symbolism or metaphor - I sat in St Mary's Cathedral in Sydney beneath the august figure of Cardinal Sir Norman Thomas Gilroy then around my age now - though I was just 18 then - checking out the opposition I was - a fairly reasonable Christmas Day sermon as I recall. But of the kind of Christmas you recall, John - nothing! How well you described it all, though. Merry Festive Greetings to you and yours and to all your gang here on this site!
Enjoy the break.
Merry Xmas, ya filthy animal.
Thanks for all of your words, John. Chosen impeccably, arranged masterfully and invented with absolute gusto. Always.
As I get older, I can't tell if the events of an average earth year are getting more gruesome or if I'm just more aware/informed/soft.
2022 has hit me right in the feelings for reasons both macro and micro, and your lens has helped my modern-man-fool thought-process processing.
Raised involuntary Catholic, my athiest self likes my family too much to not observe Christmas with them and their odd rituals. I resent this period every year for forcing false deadlines and focussing us all on buying shit when no such shit is needed. Luckily I love Boxing Day, for its collective hangover vibes and unabashed cricket glancing.
And maybe also because it means Christmas is over... for another earth year.
Thanks for an awesome year of Friday feeds. Feels like being part of a another family as highly intelligent and yet dysfunctional as my real family! 😃You are like my super witty and smart big brother. Have an amazing break.
Happy Christmas JB. You have shone the light during what for me has been a rather challenging year on many fronts.
Have a great break, John
I realise it's been several years in a row when at this time I'm wishing the month would just fast forward so the new, far better, year would start. Here's hoping that 2023 is the first of an incredibly long run of years we finally get right.
Always.
Merry Xmas mate
Thanks for another year of laugh-out-loud wit mixed with insight, Birmo. Very glad to have found your little corner of the electronsphere.
And Happy Hyperconsumption Holiday to all! I hope you're able to enjoy a pleasant and relaxed time with your families and significant others. I'm not big on Xmas, but my partner loves it, so I will get in the spirit for her. See you all next year.
Can't manage well-expressed just now, but genuinely appreciate all you write. Both this blog and your books are enjoyed, each in their own way, and great pleasure to read. Thank you John.
Merry Everything, Birmo. Back in the day, (late 80's early 90's) there was a thing called ShareWare and PostcardWare, where people wrote software and included in the code their postal address, and said send me money or a postcard if you can afford it. As a teenager I was deeply impressed by this, and managed to scavenge AUD, USD, GBP, Francs or Kroner from various people returning from holidays, and send it on in envelopes with a lot of hope the software writer had no moved addresses. I enjoy receiving my AuthorWare from you, and hope my spare AUD help fund the GPH bills, and thought I would relate this memory in the comments as a digitally updated form of Postcard. Cheers, Looking forward to 2023, Bart
Go well, love JB. Love your stuff.
Enjoy a well earned break Mr B…I’m gunna crack a few coldies and position my esky next to the chair and absorb the MCG test..”burp”
Come the New Year,,,
Twitter will be run by Snoop Dog - I hope.
Merry Christmas!
have a good break, & a healthier lunch. Can't wait for the new swear words!
Yuletide salutations and thanks for all the incisive observations through the year, you old sword-swallower.
John, you are a (near-) weekly pleasure to read.. Thank you
Merry Christmas JB to, my first Christmas back here after years back in Liverpool but the Brissy heat here in Taringa! Humidity yuk! Have a great break, all the best from the original second lifer!
Thank you for your fabulous musings. Have a healthy and happy 2023. We have treated ourselves to 2 x 3 month old male Maremma/Border Collie pups. They will keep us distracted from the doom and gloom of the news and healthy to boot.
Merry Christmas and all that.
I hope the time out is outrageously good.
Roasted a tin of corned beef for Xmas once.
OK once it got a crust on it.
Bestivus Christmas Ever to you and yours. And my fellow boobers or whatever we're called ha. Yeah, forgotten in my christmas joy delerium. Oh, burgers. We're like burgers. hmm. Cool.
Stream of conciousness writing. Great. *facepalm*
Enjoy, get plenty of cat naps all or dog naps or whatever. Good god this political correctness is a bit bothersome aint it.
Redo from start.
Bestivus Christmas Ever to my fellow readers, you and yours.
Enjoy some cat naps (god knows I will) and this cool cartoon (by Dr Kim Lam) I just saw on the ABC email subscription.
https://www.abc.net.au/everyday/conversations-with-animals-cat-nap/101260472?utm_campaign=abc_everyday&utm_content=link&utm_medium=content_shared&utm_source=abc_everyday
Merry Festivus! Long live the past sell by anonymous pink meat. I had a very similar xmas season to your anecdote.....except I did find a bottle of (2litres!!) execrable cooking sherry in the back of the otherwise deserted pantry...score!
Merry Christmas John - your articles have been an absolute joy to read. Can't wait for the next year of new swear words. If I was richer and my rent hadn't just gone up $40 bucks a week I would buy you a beer, but for now just know its the thought that counts. Cheers Alien Sideboob - stay safe and have fun :)
How would Red Mesh Singlet Guy navigate modern Brisbane? Surely an origins graphic novel is in the works. The hero we need.
Happy Christmas to you and yours, JB, as I sit here on a rocking chair binge-reading Designated Targets. This is a rare break on my now traditional whirlwind interstate road trip of visiting family. I hope you have a restful break and look forward to more words of yours in the new year. Peace!
Merry (fill in the blank) everyone. I've enjoyed my tenure here. I'll share a couple of sentences about one of my sweetest childhood Christmas celebrations, JB has inspired me. My dad was mysteriously absent for a while, and then when he got back we started eating these grey, uniform hamburger patties day in, day out. On Christmas morning, I got a 99 cent bag of plastic Army men. And then we ate hamburger patty transformed into a meatloaf. With real ketchup.
It wasn't until I was in my thirties that someone told me dad had been in jail that December, and the hamburger patties were from a McDonald's truck wreck he had witnessed (he was a truck driver, too). He grabbed one of the scattered boxes of frozen patties from the highway, and that's what we ate.
Cheers JB – have a great Christmas!
Gary Grimble and many thanks for another year's experience of nouvelle word-sharing. When will Macquarie Dictionary cotton on!
I'm in transit to a family Christmas right as I write. We gather every four years. There are so many of us we use sport life and rec camps, usually near Lennox Head. Mid this year the relevant body cancelled our booking because people who lost their homes in the floods are now living in the camp. Well, can't complain about losing a booking when those poor sods have lost their homes. So now we're going to some place near Tamworth. Different, and hopefully not as humid as the proposed alternative on the Sunshine Coast.
Have a good one, John, and a better up-coming year. Looking forward to reading you again.
“the incel stick insect on the register looked directly at me deep into my tortured soul and said, “Don’t worry mate. She’s not worth it.”” 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 Merry Christmas John and thanks for all the laughs
Merry Xmas and see you in the New Year as we slide into oblivion, like the compactor scene in Star Wars played at 25% speed.
PS: Was great to meet in person at that nerdy writer thing in Canberra (I think Oldy owes me a drink too)
Happy Feet Up to you and yours!
(So incredibly different to a knees up …)
Very low key this year for us, the grandkids are interstate and us grown ups are past the joy of it all.
Thank you for entertaining us this year … and see you on the flip side.
JB, thank you for making me laugh out loud- every time!
“then around my age now - though I was just 18 then “ when the comments are entertaining too. merry christmas and thanks for all the words .
Thanks for the year. Park your arse in the pool with frosty drink in hand and nibble on crackling.
horror swamp of murderous heat and testicle-soup humidity.
Thank you
I didn't know how to put into words several Xmas on the Nth Coast of NSW.
Slimy meat and dry bread is not a very christmasy combo, nor are gut wrenching break-ups that propel us into a state of barely existing beyond the exertion involved in natural bodily functions (see my 2021 Christmas). T’is the week before Christmas and I’ve been wholly sucker-punched by the combination of last minute urgent work demands and emails from the rental agency demanding to know my lease renewal plans (so they can presumably increase my rent, yet again, to more than half my weekly income…at this point, I feel like I only work to pay off my landlord’s mortgage). Hopefully - if I can pull my finger out, get over the 2020-22 trauma, get a new passport and make some plans - I might even get out of this hellhole of a country to experience something more exciting than an unexpected bus delay, or the surprise of mouldy tofu when I open the packet to cook my stir fry.
You, my friend, are a treasure, and someone who pulls us out of our everyday malaise to laugh, scoff, concur, and muse on your words. There is a camaraderie between Birmo Boobers where we share a particular sense of irreverent humour, and you, kind sir, are our bra; always there, always supportive, and nice to look at. I wish you and your family (including the furry members) a merry Christmas xxxx
Happy Joyous Quasi-religious Festival
For many years, Christmas was a quiet lunch with me and Dad. I'd catch the last plane to Cairns on Christmas Eve, get a taxi from the airport and disturb Dad from his slumber in front of a concert DVD. Ham and eggs for brekky, prawns, cold roast turkey and ham for lunch. Fend for yourself after that. Christmas 2019 my sister brought Dad's only grandchild - all of 11 months old - back to Australia to meet Grandad so we had the big family Christmas. Then the plague struck. I quite enjoyed my 2020 lockdown Christmas of cheese on toast in front of a DVD marathon (three forbidden pleasures). Then Dad died so Christmas 2021 was a repeat of 2020 - preferable to the many kind invitations. This year will be the full chaos of an extended family Christmas - gawd help me. See how I go.
Thanks for another year of your insights into the non-stop crazy. Appreciate you sticking with us JB. Enjoy a Balvenie or two, some chrissy cake, left out for Santa Christmas morning.