Christmas is nothing more than a cold, miserable excuse to get drunk

It’s the least wonderful time of the year


When November comes around each year, the Halloween decorations disappear and are hastily replaced with endless amounts of tinsel, glitter and baubles that your mum’s been keeping in the attic since before you were conceived.

Let’s face it, Christmas is shit.

Everyone gets so excited, and for what? It’s supposed to be the best day ever, but in actual fact you’re just being an alcoholic for a day and being fed dry, overcooked food.

Then you’re forced to make small talk with estranged family members about your love life while wallowing in the horrible realisation that you spent your entire overdraft on buying presents  nobody actually wanted.

Cold as a witch’s tit

The weather is shit. Around Christmas time, it gets seriously cold in York. The majority of us students go home right at the start of December and are greeted with central heating that mum and dad pay for.

However for those of us who have to stay up North because of the jobs we desperately needed to cover the cost of this time of year, it’s a complete different story.

I’ve been told many a time that I needed a novelty jumper for the Christmas period, and last year I had to abide due to a compulsory “Christmas Jumper” day at work, so I channelled my muse – The Grinch.

Said jumper comes in handy when battling the freezing temperatures of York, while maintaining a bitter passive aggression towards anyone around me.

Christmas markets are shit too. The York Christmas market attracts thousands of people every weekend, or at least it feels that way. But why? All you’ll find are overpriced handmade crafts and a measly cup of mulled wine that’s been brewing in the back of a van for weeks on end.

If that doesn’t scream sophistication, I don’t know what does.

And let’s not forget the novelty carol singers, who only know two songs and think they’re as talented as Michael Bublé. But you can’t say anything “because it’s Christmas”.

It’s beginning to look a lot like a migraine

Then there’s the people who sing along to Fairytale of New York, pretending to be drunk because it’s oh so hilarious, when actually they’re just getting in the practice of slurring their words and tripping over their own feet for the big day itself.

Every year, you’ll get roped into two or three Secret Santa groups, with a maximum spend of £5-10. Without a doubt, you’ll get the housemate that you’re pretty sure keeps stealing your milk, but you have to get them something either nice or funny, because otherwise you’re a dick.

Like me

The stress of finding the perfect present for someone you’ve known for just ten weeks is unfathomable, but you’ll start to feel it as you reach the agreed date for your gift-giving. Someone will undoubtedly end up with a dildo because it’s top banter. I did.

Christmas dinner is shit too. It’s just a roast, and when it’s cooked by a bunch of students who collectively have the skills to burn a pot noodle, it’s not going to be good.

Sure, you’ll have one person who takes it upon themselves to be the ringleader, priding themselves on the fact that they’ve been cooking since they were 12 and thinks of themselves as the next Michel Roux, but when you’re working with ingredients from Aldi it can only go one way.

Fuck Christmas dinner

If turkey was any good, people would eat it more often. Pigs in blankets aren’t as great as you think they are, nor are they that special – it doesn’t take a genius to wrap one meat in another. Cranberries don’t belong in savoury dishes, and they’re only there to provide some sort of lubrication for the dry meat on your plate.

So, because the food is below par, you turn to alcohol. Champagne at breakfast, festive cocktails during the day and the harder stuff if you’re still standing after 3pm.

Christmas Day is essentially a glorified Sunday – you sit around, drink, eat and talk to that one grandparent you’re surprised has made it this far. Sure you get presents, and some might even be what you wanted, but other than that, what else is there that makes it so “great”?

Don’t get me wrong though – Boxing Day is a mad one.