Exclusive Santa Column: Ho Ho Ho! It’s Christmas Gout (day, rather)!

Merry Christmas - Santa
Gosh! What a splendid time of year!

Merry Christmas Day to you all! Gosh, isn’t it splendid? Look out of the window – snow as far as the eye can see! Turn back around and there are opened presents everywhere. ZOMG! It’s exactly what you asked for!

Now you can smell Christmas dinner wafting in from the kitchen. How delightful! Of course, Santa has done all of this for everyone, so let us thank him on this merry Christmas Day. HO HO HO!

Santa’s Christmas Day Column!

Jesus Christ! That was knackering! I’ve been all the way around the world giving out your stupid presents and the result is multiple injuries, several incidents with the police, and the odd other miscellaneous occurrences.

Here’s a brief overview of what I had to endure, in the hope next year expectations won’t be so bloody high!

Chimney Problems

You know that famous old song, “When Santa got stuck up the chimney”? Well Christmas 2016 had this sort of feel to it.

Indeed, the very first house I arrived at in Bognor Regis (I always hit the UK first to avoid the drunks spilling out of the pubs at 2am), I hit troubles. The very first!

Anyway, they’ll be changing the lyrics to that song to: “When Santa got stuck up the chimney, he forgot he had gout.”

My right ankle has swollen to such a size (not aided by my grotesque obesity), so I promptly got stuck in the chimney and jammed my ankle into the chimney wall.

My roars of agony and obscenities filled the neighbourhood for a solid hour, which got me a police warning from the local authorities. Eventually, the fire brigade turned up and knocked the chimney over and freed me up.

Unfortunately, at the very next house 20 minutes later, the exact same thing happened. The same copper turned up to stare at me as my howls of anguish and repeated cries of “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!” filled the night’s air with a distinctly non-Christmas air. Second warning right there.

By the time I got to America, to avoid getting stuck in the chimney, I was hacking down front doors with a crowbar and stuffing the presents under respective Christmas trees.

Unfortunately, as I left one home in Arkansas, I tripped over the family’s pet dog – the enraged beast bit my gout-stricken ankle, causing my belabouring to commence again.

The man of the house suddenly emerged wielding a double-barreled shotgun with terror in eyes as he attempted to fathom what was going on. In my calmest voice I told him: “Don’t worry, it’s only Santa. Ho ho ho!”, but he booted me up the arse and out of his property.

Rudolph in Trouble

Realising I could no longer deliver the presents due to continuing mishaps, I handed duties over to crack-addled Rudolph.

As I’ve documented in the past, his crack problem has been spiralling out of control.

Although he promised me he’d be well behaved upon visiting people’s homes, I soon found out he was raiding them and stealing whatever he could find. This only happened about 452 times – my apologies if you are one of the victims.

I’m always eager to give Rudolph the benefit of the doubt and handed him new duties around the factory this year, such as turning the factory lights on first thing in the morning.

Obviously, his crack usage makes his decision making a bit weird, so instead of turning on the lights he installed enormous stage lighting units which quickly overheated in the cramped factory. Eventually, they came smashing down to the ground in a ball of flames. Indeed.

Now What?

Well it’s all done for another year, leaving me to opine in existential dread about the future of humanity and myself. What do I do for the next 12 months?!

I’m not much of a believer in prepping now for 2017’s Christmas, preferring instead to leave everything to the last minute and cram everything in during a wild, horrifically disorganised panic.

What I can do, however, is get my health back on track. This gout issue is quite absurd. I visited my doctor this morning (as in, I made him visit me at Santa’s grotto at gunpoint) and he prescribed a course of non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDs).

He also told me to quit drinking – he got a kick in the testicles for this impertinence.

The NSAIDs are pretty effective, so I just plan to take about 100 of those a week to fend off any further bouts of gout. There are side-effects, though, in the form of headaches, stomach ulcers, and dizzy spells. So, kind of like how I feel all the time then! LOL! Oh, man.


Dispense with some gibberish!

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