Merry two days after Christmas, everyone! And what a Christmas it's been. This post, of course, is for anyone who spend the season hidden in an internetless underground bunker, as is advisory during the festive season. Who, dear friends, could foresee the dangers and delights of this year's Xmas? Snow, sex and Santa, not to mention Hitler's ghost possessing the body of Simon Cowell and terrorising the population of East Anglia! Not for a long time has such community spirit been seen, as was when the troubled people rallied together to send the demonic beast back to hell.
And get rid of Hitler while they were at it.
And who could foresee Santa's surprise decision to retire? The nation is racked as it debates who best to take over the job. Early rumours suggest some unlikely candidates from the political arena - Troubled PM Gordon Brown looks likely to try and bolster his popularity with some festive gift-giving, while the Tories favour simply letting children buy their own presents - after all, if you need someone else to buy you something, you're not rich enough to be happy.
On a more serious Christmas note, I fear soon I shall be writing thank-you notes. I may be a grown man, but there's no arguing with my mother.
So, to everyone out there: Thank you for my Christmas present. I am well, and hope you are too.