Archive for the ‘Christmas’ Category

Sainsbury’s are being all festive this year and have released stupid flavoured tea because stupid people like me will go out and buy them for the novelty value like stupid bloody idiots.

Look.

Naturally, even though I am stupid enough to buy such stupid nonsense, I also know a good blog post when I see one. So, here is my review of this glorious shit.

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Here is a list of things I have thought about while battling the mixed feelings of meat sweats and excessive sugar consumption this Christmas. Hooray!

1. THE SNOWMAN AND THE SNOWDOG IS THE SAME MOVIE AS JOHN WICK.

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"We're woah-king in the air..."

Some bloke’s dog dies, he goes off and causes a fuss, gets a new dog. Sure, some of the stuff in the middle is a bit different, but there you go.

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It’s been a few weeks since Christmonth was declared in our house, and Gem has been insisting on watching any movie with Christmas in it’s title.
It turns out that crap Christmas movies are the most depressing movies ever, at least up until the final 10 minutes when everything sorts itself out.
Anyway, I made this for you to use next time you get forced to watch a terrible Christmas movie starring whatsisname from that 90s movie. Have fun!

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Previously on Fudgecrumpet
“Let’s go shopping”
“Let’s get the chuffachoo to Leeds”
“Dairy Free Chocolate Mousse”
“Pouffe”

And now, the conclusion…

When last we saw our curmudgeonly hero, he had been firmly planted on an uncomfortable seat outside the Next changing room, buried underneath infinite clothing, waiting for the missus to try on whatever nonsense she wants to buy that blatantly isn’t Christmas presents.

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“How does this look on me?” She shouts from one of the cubicles.
“It looks lovely, dear.” You reply, instinctively, having made the mistake of actually thinking about the answer in the past.
“No, really. How does it look? Come and see.”

You pause for a moment, aware that this is probably some kind of trap to destroy you, but seeing no tripwires, landmines or spring-loaded boxing gloves, you venture into the changing room corridor.
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Merry bloody Christmas, folks. Ho ho ho, you hoes.

So, you’ve bought yourself the Radio Times double issue, you’ve got yourself a multipack of capri-sun* pouches that you’re steadfastly refusing to open until the big day, and your Christmas tree is upright for the fourth time since the cat/kids/poor structural engineering of your house knocked it down.

*booze for you non-teetotallers.

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So, I guess it’s Christmas. A few days off work, should be nice and relaxing, watching your playing Candy Crush Soda Saga on the toilet, while hiding from the kids.
Then the missus comes in the room, in her low cut top which means she wants to get her own way.
“We need to go Christmas shopping.” She says.
“You did all the Christmas shopping in November, because you were saying how efficient and awesome you were.” You reply.
“I bought shoes.” She says. “And a cheesecake.”
You mumble all the swear words and kick the cat, who squeals angrily and pulls down the Christmas tree.

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Yes, it’s nearly Hallowe’en, so what better time to review a fantastic service to get your kids believing in the magic of Christmas, with Lapland Mailroom’s Letters from Santa.

Lapland Mailroom

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