Merry Pissmas!

I've been thinking. (Yes, that was that grinding noise you heard last night. I hope it didn't keep you awake.) What is the point of Christmas? Acknowledging the birth of Christ? An orgy of consumerism? Spending time with the family? The contented observation of childish excitement? An excuse to buy crayfish and prawns?

No. It suddenly dawned on me this morning when Bloke and I popped into the boozer. I couldn't miss it, really. There, stacked behind Dan Murphy's, was the meaning of Christmas:

It's a bit blurry (LCD screens are difficult to see in bright sun) but you get the idea. This wasn't all they had, either. There were another two or three stacks like this. And that was just what was piled up outside. Inside, it was a veritable alcocopia.

But I had my Dickensian moment. The sight of all that beer finally made me understand that alcohol is the true meaning of Christmas. In fact, I've decided to rename it Pissmas, just to put an end the obvious confusion. I think it also goes a long way to explaining why the tradition has never caught on in the East. (Hey, I'm offending the Christians, so why not Islam as well? I'm an equal opportunity bitch.)

If you think about it, Pissmas does have a long association with alcohol.

• Father Pissmas: Tradition demands that you leave out a little glass of brandy and a mince pie for Father Pissmas. After a few houses, he must be well and truly trolleyed. Or is that sleighed?
• Pissmas cake: If it's good, it should be completely soaked in brandy.
• Great Aunt Beryl/Great Uncle Les, who you only ever see at Christmas: By the end of the day, can also be expected be soaked in brandy.
• Pissmas pudding: As with the cake, if you're doing it properly, you should soak the fruit in brandy before you make the pudding. Before serving, you should sprinkle it with yet more brandy and set it on fire.
• Pissmas parties: If a party at work or home is to be any good, it must be a swim-through. No booze = arse party. This equation does not include eggnog ~shudder~.
• Pre-Pissmas lunches: I had one of these on Friday with my besties. It went for eight hours and the food was really only there to soak up the booze.
• Cranberries: Cranberry sauce is useless. You might as well put strawberry jam on your turkey and be done with it. Everyone knows that the best use for cranberries is juicing the little suckers and then making cosmopolitans.
• Pissmas presents: Can't think what to get someone? Chocolates? No, that will make them fat. Oh, I know! A bottle. They'll love that. Ironic, really, that no-one likes the idea of getting a fat arse, yet they have no objection to getting rising damp in their collective liver.
• Bottle shops are closed for at least part of Pissmas Day: This is a mark of respect to the alcohol. Plus, it needs a rest. It's taken a hard hit in the lead-up to Pissmas and things are only going to get worse for it on New Year's Eve.

So there you have it. The meaning of Pissmas. Let's just hope the Ghost of Pissmas Past doesn't decide to visit me tonight. I bet he stinks of stale sherry and tells dad jokes from the crackers.