Now. First things first. Scrape yourself out of bed at stupid o’clock in the morning because it’s fucking Christmas. Next thing. After your typical morning routine, shower, wank, brushed teeth. Standard stuff. You go to the fridge and see off three tinnies of larger. Because we are blokes and it’s Christmas. What the fuck else are we supposed to do?
Next we need to tackle breakfast. I recommend a pint of rum and coke, equal measures. Now that we’ve had breakfast we need to pack the car with gifts, cheap tinnies and whatever you will be drinking throughout the day. I recommend bottled IPA. Now we drive to Grandma Kipp’s house (Depending on your family tradition. The Kipper clan congregate at Grandma Kipp’s house). For the journey I recommend a flask of driving whiskey. Usually cheapo shit like Jack Daniels. This is to offset the reminder of all the fucking money you forked out on the gifts in your boot.
Now this is where the day gets serious. You’ve arrived. First thing’s first. Hide your good booze. The IPA’s you will be drinking throughout the day. Grandma Kipp’s lives in a very large house. My usual hiding spot is the third floor shower. Now ladies. All men are aiming to achieve good boy points and booze at Christmas. And we are to ultimately aiming to win Christmas. Now blokes. First you have to understand your competition. For me it’s.
Daddy Kipp: Starts at a disadvantage as his is shacked up with Grandma Kipp’s youngest daughter and doesn’t go to church anymore.
Brother Kipp: Starts of with a great advantage. Twins. Not only twins. Baby twins. Fucking cheating tosser.
Then there’s me. Youngest and therefore favorite grand child.
Then there’s my mum, sister and Brother Kipp’s missus and my 3 aunties. But they are women and I’ve no idea how women compete to win Christmas
Grandma Kipper loves me because I always show up first and I am always on time. Now this is Christmas so as well as bringing gifts blokes need to bring drinks. Proper drinks not wine or gay shit like that, but beer and whiskey. To score most good boy points show up early, offer to help. And answer the door when it rings, cos Grandma Kipp’s isn’t good on her legs. Now. Remember that larger you brought that’s for handing to other blokes upon arrival. As a “I’m winning dickhead” message to them from the get go.
As the day goes on you talk laugh, but simultaneously stare down your opponents. When the time comes to open gifts you’ve got to get your tactics right. Someone will, I repeat SOMEONE WILL get a bottle of whiskey. Beer’s are to be overlooked. Those can’t be shared. But whiskey can. If you get the whiskey you need to keep it quiet. No cheer, no jumping up and down. A quiet thank you a few hours later. However as you are opening your gifts you are keeping a sharp eye on your opponents. If they get the whiskey then its time to deploy the ” Oi dad I’ve misplaced my phone could you give it a rin…. Oooooh look at that”, The walk over and pick up the bottle, “This is a beauty this, Ya know. Grandma Kipp has been slaving over that stove all day lets crack this bad boy open and treat her”. Yes I know this is an ubercunt tactic, but winning Christmas will always come with collateral damage. Then pour every one a drink. Now you get the good boy points for sharing out someone else’s whiskey, but you also get the winning Christmas points for spotting the whiskey.
Now. Come meal time you will be very well oiled. Because a key part of winning Christmas is winning the ‘I can drink more than you panzy’ competition. At this stage you can tell who is wining by the portion size you get. I’ll be aiming for a whole turkey leg and a few slices of breast. It goes without saying that you need to clean your plate. Not hard for us as Grandma Kipp’s cooking is absa fucking loutley excellent. She is a seasoned veteran. However I’m sure there are some of you who have Christmas meals that are fucking awful because the cook is shite and you’ve are all to Englis… polite to tell her.
Final hurdle. Party games. YOU HAVE TO WIN! Do your upmost not to be paired with a total spaker like my brothers missuz (DIDN’T FUCKING KNOW FUCKING STAR FUCKING WARS FUUUUUUUUUK!!!!!). The main challenge with party games is not to chunder while keeping pace with the other blokes. If you manage this you will be a dead cert to win Christmas.
Follow these rules. Don’t chob or pass out. And you will definitely win Christmas.
(Disclaimer. This is a piss take article. Don’t be a twat and drink drive. Drink Drive at your own risk. I accept no responsibility for drink drivers.) That’s good enough right?”