I really wish I had the fists and the reach of a boxer. I’d then be able to punch my fucking sister’s lights out. Cunt.
She is really getting on my tits. Having been here since Christmas Eve, cabin fever seems to be setting in and she is doing my head in. But of course, it’s all my fault because I’m always picking on people. Too fucking right if they’re being twats.
Never mind, I suppose the stress levels are only set to increase further on today, Boxing Day; the day of the running buffet, the day when my cousins descend onto the Sniffy household and eat all the food and drink all the booze that Mum and Dad have paid for, but never bring any contribution themselves. Except their company, which I suppose is more than adequate payment. It’d be a terribly boring day without them.
So Mum is getting stuff ready for the running buffet (I can’t wait to dig in), while Anna is eating stuff as soon as it comes out of the oven. Greedy fucker.
I like today, but today I’m going to be a bit tired. In a while, I’m off to Liverpool (about 30 miles away) to pick up my auntie, and my cousin, who is over from Holland with her two kids. I’ll be taking them back later on too, and ferrying other folk around. Do I mind? Not at all, it’s much better to know that people can enjoy themselves, have a drink and get home safely (as safe as my driving allows).
Tomorrow, I face the frozen wasteland that is NORFOLK, where I’ll be staying for a week (blizzards and multiple pile-ups allowing). I may be able to check in while I’m there, unless I’m dead or in intensive care or something hideous that involves bed baths and people seeing me naked. Jesus. I’ll make sure I drive carefully.
The Snoring Dog 
Sniff… don’t move from the table and eat as much as you possibly can that way you don’t have to talk to anyone and you can leave your worries behind.
Yes we agree with April – keep eating until your belly’s the size of your arse!
Cunts.
The problem is that my arse gets bigger too.
Snow is forecast for Norfolk.
Don’t worry though, some burly yokel will extract you from the hedgerow with his tractor.
Wish ’em a few ooh aars from me.
Oim practisin’ me oower-eewers, so oi aamm
Happy Holidays!!
Yes and as you get so fat just think of the blizzard stranded motorists,who will end up eating your plumpness after you draw the short straw.
You are a good daughter and niecie-poo, driving your family members from here to there and back… stay safe, love.
If you haven’t already left for Norfolk, don’t go! It isn’t half coming down here. Ruddy weather.
If you’re already here: Ha ha! You’re stuck! I hope you manage to have a great time, though.
Happy new year etc etc…
I so wish we had Boxing Day. Inferior American holidays. Hope it was wonderful – have a fabulous time in Norfolk!
does your bosom gain in ampleness as well? merry fucking christmas! happy new year as well! hope your ass isn’t frozen.
Have you died, or have you taken refuge with a yokel in a snow hole?
We must be told.
Sniff… did you eat the salmon and pickles? Did you get food poisoning and die?
Hope you’re okay, Tina. Happy New Year, wherever you ended up.
Great stuff in your previous entry during Sniffy Advent/work’s Xmas party in 2001. She was a right cunt, and I don’t use that word- nearly enough. 😉
I need a good laugh. You do when you work the hols face-to-face with tourists.
Tc,
ashlay gimpsen
Bleedin’ public sector malingerers. The rest of us are back to work (doing fuck all) and these people piss off to Norfolk to commute with the ghost of Alan Partridge.
Some people. Tsk.
Have you been eaten?
Hey T. I’ve found a new place. I will still keep my others up, but you can find me here. much love to ya!
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