Does a one-legged duck swim in circles?
In terms of me me me, I haven’t really asked for anything specific for Christmas. I don’t have much money because I’m a poor student, and my parents don’t have any money because my mum isn’t working and my dad has been on strike a lot recently. (He’s a fireman and there’s been lots of strikes over pay rises in Britain the last few weeks). So, if Santa decides to only leave me some socks, a musical tie and woolly jumper with Rudoplh emblazoned on the front, so be it. I would really like the Lord of The Rings extended edition on DVD though. But of course, Chistmas is about giving rather than receiving, about spending time with family, and about celebrating the birth of our saviour Jesus Christ. Christmas would never become a shameless capitalist exploitation strategy in the name of ever-increasing profit margins. Never in a million years. But I digress. I honestly don’t care what I get, I just want to have a nice Christmas and think about nice things, like Turkey dinner and snowfall on Christmas Day.

Put your hands in the air like you just don’t care
I was trying to remember what I’ve got for Christmas in the past, and for the most part I can remember pretty well. Interestingly though, I have absolutely no idea what I got for Christmas last year. Seriously, not an inkling. I’m hoping this is because I was so blind drunk that even if the man in the big red suit had left me an island in the Caribbean inhabited solely by a group of twenty-something Blonde beauties, I still wouldn’t remember. Sadly, he didn’t leave me such a wonderful present (maybe this year?) and I wasn’t that drunk. So I have no idea why I can’t remember. Perhaps my present was so hideous that I’ve repressed the entire day. Or maybe it was so insignificant in the grand scheme of things that at the time it didn’t seem like it was worth remembering it.