The Pales are setting off soon for the traditional Christmas slog all over the country.
Gloucester, Matlock, across to Grantham, down to Romford. Then Benfleet for a Christmas Eve mutton phaal, then Egham for Christmas lunch with Princess Pale. Lady P's sister still lives in Scotland but I told her to fucking do one when she suggested we add that to the list.
More stops than usual as a couple of them are getting on and I'm thinking of mentions in wills (Lady Whiteadder stylie) but I don't want anybody thinking I'm a greedy heartless cunt. My Somalis are testament to that.I've left them water and pork scratchings in their shed along with a nice card.. I assume I'll put on a stone and hope I'm not still pissed for the following leg each morning. My cousin Roger in Matlock brews his own and it's brain-damage material.
So, the Palekommanderwagon is prepped, loudspeaker blaring Christmas favourites Hey Santa Claus You Cunt and the Ride of the Valkyries all set to go and woe betide any woke fuckwit gluing them selves to the M5, M6, M1, M11 or M25 as the frontal flails have been oiled.
If I don't get the chance before the day, have a good one. I personally think Christmas is about giving rather than receiving so I've written to Santa to ask that McDullard gets a P45.
Chocks away !!