THIS year, rather than spend money on the non-sustainable practice of sending Christmas cards, Annabelle and I have agreed to spend the money on drugs.
We’re taking a stand because we believe it’s the right thing to do. Because we hope to change the way we think of Christmas. And because we want to get blitzed.
The tradition of sending Christmas cards comes from the Victorians. Isn’t it time to move on from cluttering our mantlepieces and other surfaces with wasteful cardboard, when we could be snorting fat lines from them instead?
And the cost adds up. A pack of 10 cards can cost £5 or more. Send out 30 and you’re laying out £35, and that’s for second class stamps. The same amount spent on MDMA would last a whole weekend.
Then there’s the tedium. An evening in the run-up to Christmas when everyone’s horribly busy spent writing identical messages to former acquaintances? No thanks. Wouldn’t it be more festive to be tripping your balls off in front of The Polar Express?
So this year we’re making a break with tradition. Instead of spending that money on depleting pine forests, we’re spending it on mushrooms. And we invite you to join us.
Let’s all come together and wish each other a Merry Christmas on Zoom, absolutely f**ked off our heads. And then again, two minutes later, because we don’t remember the first time.