Merry Fucking Christmas

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Merry Fucking Christmas fellow blog readers, and wherever you are in the world I hope you are having a rather better one than me!!! Unfortunately for me, the festive season has been rather overshadowed this year by the unwelcome revelation over Christmas Dinner with the Lazy V crowd that the aforementioned Mr S is in actual fact a LYING CHEATING FUCKING BASTARD of the first degree, or failing that at least a stereotypical male sleaze - God knows why I am even fucking surprised… To cut a long story short, I found out yesterday that at last week’s previous Lazy V event he started sleazing on the girl next to me almost as soon as I had walked out the door (having already been hitting on me with dogged persistence for most of the evening) - so much for all those flowers / wining and dining / professions of genuine emotion I’ve had from him then over the last couple of weeks then… Not that I actually ever liked him in that sense anyway (see previous ‘Sex and the City’ entry for confirmation of this fact!), but still, at least your would-be admirers should have the decency to restrict their efforts to you and you alone - or at the very least not to shit on their own and your front doorstep while attempting to play the (admittedly rather limited) expatriate field. At any rate it’s all rather backfired on him now, as now I know and his (already small but at the same time never completely ruled out) chance with me is already completely blown as a result. And a good fucking job too - it’s a bit of a slap in the face now perhaps, but in the long run maybe I’ve just had a fucking lucky escape…

Anyway other Christmas news this year is that I ended up going out drinking with Mariam and new friend Mr American for pretty much the entire Christmas period (punctuated only by above mediocre and overpriced Christmas dinner at Banditos, plus one or two hours of much needed sleep from time to time too), the three of us collectively downing a whole bottle of Amaretto on Christmas morning alone and all vocally professing not to give a fuck about the almost complete absence of such traditional seasonal increments as presents / tree / Father Christmas / stockings / baby Jesus / peace and love / good will to all men (ha!) etc as we did so too.

In fact this has only been my second Christmas out of the country (the first one found me hospitalized in Cambodia two years ago with the fucking South-East Asian tsunami to follow up on Boxing Day), and all in all I can’t say I really felt all that into the whole round of Christmas festivities this year either - and that’s even despite living right next to one of the biggest and most atmospheric Christmas markets in all of Europe too… Without the whole media build-up from September / same cheesy Christmas songs constantly playing in the supermarket / quality seasonal programming on the BBC / sherry / mince pies / turkey sandwiches etc and last but not least my mum’s legendary Christmas dinner, to be honest the 25th December this year just felt like another day really (with the sole exception that I drunk a lot more alcohol than usual and was heard to swear a whole lot more about fucking bastard men). And to tell the truth, in fact my life has been so packed full of exciting / turbulent / alcohol-fuelled events (not to mention new job / country / social circle etc!) since moving here last October that I hardly needed or even noticed the seasonal distraction all that much anyhow... In fact the only two twinges of Christmas sentiment I experienced all December was receiving two parcels from my loving relatives - a seriously warm hand-knitted scarf from my German grandmother Ursula (entirely unexpected and incredibly touching even for a hardened cynic such as myself) and, even better, a real Christmas stocking packed with such seasonal necessities as medjool dates (mmmmm), mini bottles of port (didn’t last long!) and of course a copy of my beloved (but admittedly 100%!t(MISSING)rashy) HEAT magazine, all put together and sent out to me from my lovely mum (who else???). As you all well know, I’m not one to normally indulge in sentiment (“ice maiden” would be a far more accurate description!), but the fact that someone out there was thinking of me and took the time to prepare such heartfelt gifts such as that both really had me welling up for a moment there…

So really all that’s left to do now really is to work out how to tackle Mr Fucking Bastard on the whole infidelity issue (technically not cheating on his part as we’re not and were never in a proper relationship, but at the same time he was supposed to really like me, not be chasing pussy indiscriminately round town). Having traditionally been the player and not the played, I’m at a bit of a loss as to how to handle things here, so all advice / ideas for a painful revenge are definitely more than welcome please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PS: Sorry to use the word “fuck” so much in the above. Wait, no actually I’m not sorry at all - fuck bollocks shitty arse lying fucking cheating fucking ugly sleazy fucking wanker. There, now I feel better… ;-) Merry Fucking Christmas one and all!!!

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