Santa’s Blog – Day 2


December 14 2013

Gawd I’m feeling rough. Reckon I must have got a dodgy pint last night at the Pig & Penguin ‘cos my head feels like it’s gonna explode and my mouth tastes like a rat’s jacksy. I tell you, I dunno when Bill last cleaned the pipes on them pumps but I reckon there’s bacteria up there what’ve been extinct on the rest of the planet for centuries. It’s like the microscopic land that time forgot. I wonder if there’s a little Raquel Welch amoeba running round in a chamois-leather bikini? I think we probably made a mistake stopping off at the Polar Palace on the way home and all – Rhanjit serves a lovely dhansak but the lime pickle plays havoc with my lower colon. What’s that Johnny Cash song again? Yeah, that’s the one 😉

I tell you, her indoors was giving me the evil eye over breakfast and all. Serve’s you right, she says, out ‘til all hours with that daft sod Frosty – I’ve no flippin’ sympathy for you. I know what’s really eating her, though; it’s the wedding in January. Did I tell you Frosty was getting married again? No? Well he is – to that little pixie from the Gingerbread factory he met last year. I’ve got to say I’ve a got a few reservations myself. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a lovely girl and all that, but I can’t see it working out with an age difference of almost 200 years between them, can you? I mean, by the time she’s 300 he’ll be knocking on for half a millennium, and he’s not exactly the healthiest looking specimen to begin with. Still, he didn’t have many options after she told him the good news, did he? Okay, you don’t have to get married these days, but Frosty’s an old-fashioned snowman and he’d never leave a girl in the lurch with an icicle in the freezer, now would he?

He’s chuffed as punch, though, the silly old beggar! He’s been going to all the antenatal classes and that, reading up and helping her practice her breathing exercises. They reckon they’re going to go for a home birth – and a water birth at that! I told him that’s asking for trouble – I mean, the ice-hole in Frosty’s bedsit is only about a metre round and he has to share that with Pingu and a sea-lion. It’ll all end in tears, you mark my words.

They’re saving up for a deposit on a bigger place, I know, but what with the credit crunch and all I think Frosty’s finding it hard to get work. He’s still getting some residues from the single and that, and he’s picking up the usual bit of seasonal greeting card work, but what with all the new stuff that comes out at Christmas these days it’s not the rich pickings it used to be for the poor old beggar. These days people would rather have the Simpsons or Family Guy on their Christmas cards than an old codger like Frosty. Ho Hum. Do us a favour – if you haven’t bought your cards yet buy some with Frosty on. It’s an expensive time when you’ve got a new baby coming, and he’s a diamond geezer is Frosty, even if he is sometimes his own worst enemy.

Oh – I’m best man, by the way 🙂 I’ll run my speech past you if you’ll let me? Her indoors reckons it’s a bit too near the knuckle, but I know Frosty wouldn’t want it any other way 😉

Ho Hum

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