“It’ll be lonely this Christmas, without you to hold. It'll be lonely this Christmas, lonely and cold. It'll be cold, so cold, without you to hold this Christmas.”
If that hasn’t put you in the mood for festive shenanigans, I don’t know what will. OK, poking fun at those who’ll inevitably end up spending Christmas Day alone isn’t particularly nice. But it happens. Each year, thousands of people are left to to celebrate Jesus’s commercialised birthday solo, and it’s depressing.
As a person who’s loved by few and is therefore more than used to killing time on my lonesome, I know a few things about boredom. Here’s the essential shopping list that’ll power you through the Christmas blues.
Rise and Shine
This isn’t the time for beating around the bush. Even the ad will have you reaching for the tissues. Truly tear-jerking stuff. Grab yourself a gift card for Pornhub’s high-end service and slide into the world of Pornhub Premium, the ad-free, high quality experience of your wettest dreams. It’ll be a very white Christmas indeed.
Now that’s out of the way, it’s time to bring home the orgasm. Polish off your morning by sucking on the magnificent Incredibowl. Take your time. Release the tension your earlier routine couldn’t rid you of. Ahhhhh. Prepare yourself for the next part of the day.
You’re living the dream now. You’re Charles fucking Bukowski. Dizzy in the head, carefree and bursting with creativity. What to write about? What not to write about? Who cares? You’re hunched in front of your own typewriter, bashing away like a pro. Yeah, a novel sounds right.
You’ve lived an extraordinary life, and it’s time for people to enter the labyrinth that is your mind. Remember this moment, for Oprah will soon have you relive it on her couch. Actually, fuck this. It’s too hard. Writing a smash-hit single on the other hand, that’ll be a piece of cake. Ooh, there’s an idea...
Damn, this is hungry work. Damn again, there’s no turkey in the oven. Nay bother. It’s time to strap on the fireball-shooting Pyro Mini and collect some poultry. Wrap up warm, get Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Free Bird blasting in your ears, and stumble out into the world. Where dem turkeys at? Surely the ones that survived this year’s cull are out in force, gobbling away with the energy of a flea on speed? Nothing. Another failure. Back home it is.
When’s the last time you scrubbed up properly? Work do? That was probably a disappointment too. Stupid what’shis/herface stole the show and you looked firmly second rate in comparison. Today’s your day. Nobody here’s going to look anywhere near as good as you. The Golden Apple is yours. Now get those winter clothes off and throw on your finest garb.
Spare a thought for the poor guy who set out to film his dream holiday with a GoPro, only to return home and realise he had the damn thing pointed at his face the entire time. Laugh loudly and mirthlessly. Do the job properly. Press record. Watch tomorrow.
God bless Domino’s. The pizza’s crap, but at least the company’s created something so utterly moronic that you’d be mad not to want to use it. Its Easy Order button deserves to be treated with respect. Fortunately, you already look terrific. Customise your pizza with extra cheese (you’ll see why shortly) and hit the accursed button like the movie villain you’ve always wanted to be. Christmas opening hours permitting, lunch will soon be served in a soggy cardboard box.
Force that final slab of dry bread and congealed stuff down your gullet. If it’s all a bit much for you, just go for the cheese. Trust me. It’s time to slump in front of the telly and nap. This is how humans are supposed to live. Let the power of the cheese take over your brain, and dream, dream, dream.
Embrace Your Bad Side
Well that put an end to the fun. Now you’re drowsy, bloated and painfully aware of the fact you’re spending Christmas alone. You’re not a bad person, yet the Fates seem to be making you pay for something. Might as well make it count. Check Facebook for some inspiration. The friend who’s posted the most Christmas pictures is your target. Grab your finest Voodoo doll and a sewing kit, and prick away.
Channel Your Inner GCHQ
Addictive isn’t it? Don’t worry, you don’t have to put an end to your evil ways just yet. Stay on Facebook for now, but pick more targets of scorn. Aww, I'm so happy for you with your cosy little Christmas gathering. Sadly for you, even Instagram's filters and effects can't stop your dinner from looking like shite on a plate. Back to the real world. Dust off your binoculars and invade the privacy of the happy little homes surrounding you. Oh, has little Timothy already broken his expensive new robot thing? What a shame. Ha.
Fine, that got a little uncomfortable. Has life really come to this? Sneering at other people’s crying kids while crouching by your window in a darkened room? No, you need to pick yourself up and do something to make you feel much better about yourself. You need to become a hero. And what do heroes do? They work their way into the Guinness World Records, of course. Read up on the deeds of fellow greats and vow to outdo them (or find yourself a previously unexplored niche).
Summon the Dead
You’ve always been curious, but afraid of what your superstition-bashing friends might say. Screw it, where are your mates now? Like a teenage boy nervously sliding his dad’s saucy magazines out from under the bed, brandish your finest Ouija board and grab a few tumblers. Ebenezer Scrooge hung out with ghosts. It’s not that weird.
Reload and Rediscover
OK, nothing happened, but that was still absolutely terrifying. Get a much-needed beer down you. And then something stronger. You need to feel warm again, and The Snowman’s already been on TV.
Not to worry, you've still got the box of sentimental scraps you've kept hidden from the rest of the world. File through the dog-eared cards and letters, skim the faded words and take solace in the fact that you do have family and friends that love you, and they're a bunch of soppy gits.
Create Outer Space
Round the day off in style. Stick your fairy lights around your living room (if you haven't already), turn the lights down and grab that Incredibowl again. Dig up your favourite '80s playlist, lie back, and enjoy the journey. Yes, Mr Adams, we are in heaven.