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Surerandomality Christmas Edition
Welcome to the Christmas edition issue of Surerandomality, which has a seasonal style to it. First of all, a round up of last week’s action. Early hours on Friday afternoon, and Phil makes it over from Liverpool, Ricky gets home, picks up Phil and Squirrel, then off to Middleton to pick G Man up from work and then it was road trip to Newcastle time to meet up with Paul. Little Mark didn’t manage to make it as he forgot that Southampton vs. Newcastle was actually being played in Southampton. Straight to Ba Ja where large amounts of alcohol were consumed, and G Man mistook a glass of salt for his glass of Tequila with the obvious hilarious consequences, making up random lines to use, and then watching each other spectacularly crash and burn from the balcony, all that can be said is Goblins and Fairy wings. Ricky pulled again, and rumours have it so did G Man. It took 2 hours and a torturous route to get back to Paul’s, which include various wrestling moves, and the hammer style throwing of a sandbag in the middle of the Motorway through the centre of Newcastle. Woke up too late to see the start of the Man Unt game on Saturday, but in the Cornerhouse before the end of the first half then on to the Punch Bowl to watch Chelsea on German TV, then home, changed and out to Osborne’s so that G Man could meet up with Kaz. On to the Pitcher & Piano where they met up with James, one of Paul’s mates and then onto The Boat, complete with it’s 10 dance floors (including the infamous revolving one), Ricky who is in a rich vein of form, pulled again. Managed to get back a lot quicker and carried on drinking til after 4. Got up and back in the Cornerhouse for the Tottenham game, and then it was the reverse road trip, got back to find that Hopalong had had an early Christmas with Mary, and one of the presents was a dart board. It only needs an optic run and a pool table and there will be no leaving the house ever. Monday night saw Squirrel meet up with ‘me laird’ at Squirrels, then onto Teasers, and Brannigans, then more Amsterdam style window shopping at Pandora’s. Tuesday saw Hopalong, Ricky and G Man out and about in town, and after Brannigans they made a trip to the casino (Viva Las Vegas), but at this point things turn sour, first G Man kicks a door of another club as he walks past, at which stage the bouncer comes out and smacks him, then once in the casino (Viva Las Vegas) Hopalong starts losing and Ricky and G Man can’t get him to leave, they give up with him £150 down and go for a curry, where Ricky, trying to keep his run going tries it on with a couple of lesbians and fails as his infamous “I’m not gay you know” line doesn’t quite hit the spot, though they do manage to bag themselves a very fetching helmet style felt hat as a beer trophy. Hopalong eventually crawls in at 6.30, £75 up, and manages to make it to work, which is more than G Man could manage, as he had a spurious not genuine ankle injury. Thanks for the contributions, but due to the Christmas style this week they will be used at a later date. Yes mate you told us, But, Basically here it is.
Congratulations to And Wallace who took up his temporary job as Santa this week. (See News item 1 and Joke number 4)
Congratulations to Percion and Treisesla who have a total of 24 little snails sliming about from their batch of 33 eggs, names should be forthcoming next week.
Here’s wishing a tip top Christmas to all readers past, present and future, may you all get what you deserve, and deserve what you get, and in the words of a mutant "open your mind".
A little girl is in line to see Santa. When it's her turn, she climbs up on Santa's lap. Santa asks, "What would you like Santa to bring you for Christmas?" The little girl replies, "I want a Barbie and a G.I. Joe." Santa looks at the little girl for a moment and says, "I thought Barbie comes with Ken." "No," said the little girl. "She comes with G.I. Joe, she fakes it with Ken."
A guy walks into a store for some last-minute Christmas shopping, and sees a parrot for sale. He asks the clerk what the parrot's name is and the clerk tells him it's Chet. He also tells the man that this is one amazing parrot. If you put a match under his left foot, it sings “Jingle Bells,” and if you put a match under its left foot, it sings, “Deck the Halls.” The man thinks that is the coolest thing he's ever seen, so he decides to buy it for his wife. So he gets home, and puts it away. Then he wonders what will happen if he puts it a match between its legs, so he tries it, and the parrot starts singing “Chet's nuts roasting over an open fire...”
Santa was very cross. It was Christmas Eve and NOTHING was going right. Mrs. Claus had burned all the cookies. The elves were complaining about not getting paid for the overtime they had worked making toys, and were threatening to go on strike. The reindeer had been drinking eggnog all afternoon. To make matters worse, a few of the other elves had taken the sleigh out for a spin earlier in the day and had crashed it into a tree. Santa was furious. "I can't believe it! I've got to deliver millions of presents all over the world in just a few hours, and all of my reindeer are drunk, the elves are walking out, and I don't even have a Christmas tree! I sent that stupid little angel out HOURS ago to find a tree and he isn't even back yet! What am I going to do?" Just then, the little angel opened the front door and stepped in from the snowy night, dragging a Christmas tree. The angel said, "Yo, fat man! Where do you want me to stick the tree this year?" And thus the tradition of angels atop the Christmas trees came to pass...
What's the difference between Michael Jackson and Santa? Nothing, they both leave children's bedrooms with empty sacks!
On Christmas morning, a cop on horseback was sitting at a traffic light, and next to him was a kid on his shiny new bike. The cop said to the kid, "Nice bike you got there. Did Santa bring that to you?" The kid said, "Yeah." The cop said, "Well, next year, tell Santa to put a taillight on that bike." The cop then proceeded to issue the kid a $20 bicycle safety violation ticket. The kid took the ticket. Before he rode off he said, "By the way, that's a nice horse you got there. Did Santa bring that to you?" Humouring the kid, the cop said, "Yeah, he sure did." The kid said, "Well, next year tell Santa to put the dick underneath the horse, instead of on top."
12 Days of Christmas Dearest John, I went to the door today and the postman had delivered a Partridge in a Pear Tree. What a thoroughly delighted gift! I couldn't have been more surprised. With deepest love and affection, Aberdine Dearest John, Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine- two Turtle Doves! I'm delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They are just adorable. You big silly, what next? All my love, Aberdine Dearest John, Aren't you the extravagant one! Now I really must protest. I don't deserve such generosity - 3 French Hens! They are just darling, but I must insist, you have been too kind. Love, Aberdine Dear John, Today the postman delivered 4 Calling Birds. Now really, they are beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough? You're being too romantic. Affectionately, Aberdine Dear John, What a surprise! Today the postman delivered 5 Golden Rings; 1 for every finger! You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, all those birds squawking were beginning to get on my nerves. All My love, Aberdine Dear John, When I opened the door there were actually 6 Geese a-laying on my front steps. So you're back to the birds again, eh? Those geese are huge! Where will I ever keep them? The neighbours are starting to complain, and I can't sleep through the racket. Please stop. Cordially, Aberdine John, What's with you and those Fucking birds? 7 Swans a-swimming? What kind of goddamn joke is this? There's bird shit all over the house and they never shut up. I can't get to sleep at night, and I'm a nervous wreck. It's not funny! Stop with those Fucking birds already. Sincerely, Aberdine Okay buster, I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I to do with 8 maids-a-Milking? It's not enough, but they had to bring their goddamn cows! There's manure all over the lawn, and I can't move in my own house. What are you doing to me? Just lay off, smart-ass! Aberdine. Hey shithead: What are you? Some kind of sadist? Now there's 9 pipers piping, and Christ do they play. They haven't stopped chasing those 8 maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are getting upset and they're stepping all over those screeching birds. What am I to do? The neighbours have started a petition to have me evicted. You'll get yours... Aberdine. You rotten prick! Now there are 10 ladies dancing. I don't why I call those sluts ladies. They've been at it all night, along with those frigging pipers! Now the cows can't sleep, and they've got diarrhoea. My living room is a river of shit. The commissioner of buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building shouldn't be condemned. I am going to ask to ask the police to intervene. One who means it. Venomously, Aberdine Listen Fuckhead: What's with the 11 lords a-leaping all over those maids and ladies? Some of those broads will never walk again! Those pipers have run through the maids and are committing bestiality with the cows. All 23 of the birds are dead! They've been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you're satisfied you rotten, vicious, swine. Your sworn enemy, Aberdine Dear Sir: This is to acknowledge your latest gift of 12 fiddlers fiddling, which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Aberdine. The destruction of course, was total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If you should attempt to reach Aberdine at the Happy Valley Sanatorium, the attendants have instructions to shoot you on sight. With this letter, please find attached a warrant for your arrest. Sincerely, Badger, Bender, Cajole - Attorneys at Law
Sam had been in business for 25 years and is finally sick of the stress. He quits his job and buys 50 acres of land in northern Sweden as far from humanity as possible. Sam sees the postman once a week and gets groceries once a month. Otherwise it's total peace and quiet. After six months or so of almost total isolation, someone knocks on his door. He opens it and there is a huge, bearded man standing there. "Name's Lars, your neighbor from forty miles up the road... Having a Christmas party Friday night... Thought you might like to come. About 5:00..." "Great," says Sam, "after six months out here I'm ready to meet some local folks. Thank you." As Lars is leaving, he stops. "Gotta warn ya... There's gonna be some drinkin'." "Not a problem," says Sam. "After 25 years in business, I can drink with the best of 'em." Again, as he starts to leave, Lars stops. "More 'n' likely gonna be some fightin' too." Sam says, "Well, I get along with people, I'll be alright. I'll be there. Thanks again." Once again Lars turns from the door. "More'n likely be some wild sex, too." "Now that's really not a problem," says Sam, warming to the idea. "I've been all alone for six months! I'll definitely be there. By the way, what should I wear?" Lars stops in the door again and says, "Whatever you want. Just gonna be the two of us."
Santa Claus, like all pilots, gets regular visits from the Federal Aviation Administration, and it was shortly before Christmas when the FAA examiner arrived. In preparation, Santa had the elves wash the sled and bathe all the reindeer. Santa got his logbook out and made sure all his paperwork was in order. The examiner walked slowly around the sled. He checked the reindeer harnesses, the landing gear, and Rudolf's nose. He painstakingly reviewed Santa's weight and balance calculations for the sled's enormous payload. Finally, they were ready for the checkride. Santa got in, fastened his seatbelt and shoulder harness, and checked the compass. Then the examiner hopped in carrying, to Santa's surprise, a shotgun. "What's that for?" asked Santa incredulously. The examiner winked and said, "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but you're gonna lose an engine on takeoff."
A couple of items that have caught my eye this week.
Lewisham Borough Council, have issued guidelines regarding the behavior of those working as Father Christmas’s this year. They advise that under no circumstances should they have the children on their laps. Furthermore there should be no touching what so ever, this includes shaking hands, and the handing over of any gifts should be witnessed by at least one of the child’s parents and one other adult. A council spokesman said that in the current climate we believe that seasonal work as Father Christmas would be high on pedophiles’ list of things to do. One manager of a local store said that all this would do is spoil the child’s enjoyment of the occasion. “ it would be like going to Disneyland and being unable to hug Mickey Mouse”. - Word is that this ruling may be imposed in Harrogate in the very near future after profiling of new Father Christmas’s.
SHOPPERS are flocking to buy a bizarre Christmas gift — a £7.99, 5ins-high plastic Jesus Action Figure. The doll comes with moving arms “and a gliding action”. It has four wheels and can be pushed through a tray of liquid to simulate Christ walking on water. The model is available in light or dark skin colouring. And the life of Jesus is outlined on gaudy packaging, which describes him as “a remarkable man”. - Now all we have to wait for is the one that comes out next year wearing a Santa outfit.
The Nightmare Before Christmas. Weird Tim Burton pile of crap with no real plot or form, and abysmal puppet like characters. Like morph, but less understandable, and no Tony Hart as backup. So bad that it doesn’t matter if you’re pissed or sober, it’s still a waste of 76 minutes of your life. Avoid at all costs, do something more interesting instead, such as watching paint dry, or even an hour and a quarter of QVC. 0/5
Only two sad bastards bothered to send in an answer to last weeks question, which obviously goes to show that they’ve subscribed to the wrong publication. I don’t even know the average time that Surerandomality gets sent out, and furthermore I don’t really give a shit, as I have more pressing issues to think about, such as where is the stone? Anyway Mr Patrick O’Neill of Cricklewood, London is going to be the proud recipient of a Pink Barbie watch (due to the fact that there is no way on earth that Mark Gill is getting it, despite his working out going down to the second). If anyone out there sees a bloke walking around with a pink Barbie watch on in the next few weeks, just go up to them, call them a sad bastard and give them a slap.
For this week’s competition, I’m surprisingly going to use something alone the Christmas theme. What type of miniature was behind flap number 19 on my advent calendar? Was it A. Mars, B. Snickers, C. Twix, or D. Bounty? Answers to the usual address, which for those of you that aren’t exactly Mr / Miss current affairs is in the notes at the end of the issue. This week’s prize is a Santa hat.
…Continued from last week.
They sat in front of the hearth, with the coal effect gas fire roaring, well gently hissing, to keep them warm. Claire was opening her presents, working her way through the various bits and pieces that she had received from her work colleagues and other friends, it was the first such opening of the day as there would be another set of presents when they went over to her parents house for Christmas dinner later on, and joined up with the rest of her family. The whose family to visit? thing had ended earlier in the year with the death of his mother, the last of his living relatives that he actually knew or spoke to, he had some distant relatives but he’d never met them and he had no contact with them.
She looked up and got him to open one of his presents, but he wasn’t really that interested in them, the only important gifts would be the ones from Claire anyway, besides it wouldn’t take long to open the couple he had. His friends had a tradition of not buying each other presents, but instead using the money to go out, have a slap up meal, lots of drinks, then off clubbing, Zanzibar Blue again, and then early morning breakfast at Jim’s Steaks just a bit further down South Broad Street. This year they’d all gone on to catch a Flyers game the following afternoon, and on reflection it would have probably been cheaper to buy each other presents, but it had been a good 36 hours.
Basically he enjoyed watching Claire open her presents, and to watch the expression of joy on her face whenever she opened anything. It didn’t matter what it was, everything she opened would draw an excited gasp as if it was the most wondrous item in the world. It wasn’t fake emotion either, she genuinely loved anything she received and was always grateful. He knew that she would spend much of the followed afternoon writing out thank you notes with gushing enthusiasm.
She started to open some of the smaller items that he’d bought her, the new Patricia Cornwell novel All That Remains, the third such novel featuring Kay Scarpetta, as he knew that Claire was a fan. He read the first two himself and had enjoyed them, and he’d probably read this one once Claire had finished with it. He’d also got her recent Whitney release from The Bodyguard. Definitely not his taste, as he though her to be a bit of a screaming witch, but Claire was a big fan, and he’d found it a bit surprising she hadn’t already got it. The final item for opening was a matching scarf and gloves set that he’d seen her admiring in JC Penney’s the week before. As she was opening this he produced the final item from it’s hiding place, and passed it over to her.
He watched with baited breath, knowing that she would love it, he’d spent all his generous bonus from Trebling on it. It was a gold, diamond encrusted Cartier watch, with a personalized inscription on it. She had unwrapped the outer layer of paper, and was then faced with the plain protective layer of cardboard, then underneath to the plain black box with just the word Cartier engraved in gold leaf on it. She opened the box lid, and her face lit up. He felt himself smiling, but he also felt himself shaking. He closed his eyes, and paused for a couple of seconds, then reopened them.
He woke to see the stewardess in front of him, the plane was in the air, and appeared to be levelled out, it was all just a memory of his last Christmas with Claire, he now remembered where he was and what had caused him to pass out in the first place, he looked from side to side to confirm that he hadn’t imagined his neighbours on the plane. He hadn’t been imagining things at all. He set himself ready to start on the barrage of questions that he had for both women, and was about to start as a man, dressed in jeans and t-shirt, knocked into him as he rushed past. He definitely didn’t look like he belonged in first class, and in fact went straight to the door of the cockpit. Meanwhile from the corner of his eye in the other gangway strolled another man, again in jeans and t-shirt but as he turned to look at him the man took something out of his pocket. It was some kind of handgun, he looked towards the cockpit, and the other man was already in the cockpit with a handgun of his own. What was already a strange and disturbing day was about to get a lot worse, the fucking plane had just been hijacked.
To be continued…. (It looks like something is actually gonna happen)
The image of Father Christmas in Red and white was created by Coca-Cola in 1931 for an advertising campaign. Prior to this it was traditional for Father Christmas to be dressed in green.
The name Santa Claus is derived from St. Nicholas who lived from 270-310AD, and was the bishop of Myra (modern day Finike) in Turkey. His Saints day is actually December 6th.
Christmas crackers were invented around 1876 by Tom Smith, a baker of wedding cakes from Clerkenwell in London. It was invented from the French habit of wrapping sugared almonds in twists of paper as gifts.
Is the day after Christmas called Boxing Day because you always have those relatives you hate round?
Why are small children more interested in playing with the wrapping paper and not the present that came in it?
Turkey (n).
The cracker you think you’ve pulled whilst drunk at the office Christmas party who turns out to be a rough old bird who only gets stuffed once a year.
Not a great deal of changes, but there are likely to be a lot after the next couple of weeks with all the matches played over Christmas and new year. This is also an early warning system for transfers, which must be in before 1st January, so get thinking of them now, and don’t be ringing me 5 minutes before the games kick off on new year’s day. And while I’m at it, don’t be asking to change your transfer after your new player gets injured, while the spanner you got rid of suddenly sparks into life, cos it just ain’t happening.
Annual Table
Position Team Points
1st Free Transfer XI 854
2nd The Cherokee Hair Tampons 837
3rd Shhoooooottt!!! 828
4th Relegated By Christmas 817
5th Bonus F.C. 793
6th And Sergei Rebrov Wins The Golden Boot 771
7th Heald Place Harriers 764
8th Nottingham Saints 749
9th SMB Arsenal 739
10th Wednesday Wannabes 725
11th Cartman's Heroes 707
12th Big Unit's Cherries 699
13th Steps Into Jansen's Ring 683
14th Premiership Rejects 663
15th Geordies On Top 657
16th Helen Chamberlain's Body Stocking 650
17th Maine Road 1923-2003 645
18th Banjo Wielding Strikers 561
Upto and Including 18th December
Still lots of e-mails, but with it being Christmas there has been hardly any post this week, and what there has been, was mainly Christmas cards, and the majority of them addressed to Rex. I dread the postbag after Christmas when the lazy tossers from consignia or what ever they’re called actually get round to delivering my post. Amazingly someone did manage to beat the score of Candy Suxx on their application form (i.e. a perfect 35/35), and they will be starting on Monday 6th January, and am I looking forward to that!!! The response to the Save the Golf Ball Appeal is still going quite well, but with the abysmal post there have been no donations this week. The grand total still stands at £198.76, 14 second & 11 First class stamps, 47 euros, $2.41, 10 drachma, 13 Yen, 5 Krugerands, 9 Luncheon Vouchers, £10 worth of Argos vouchers and £220 worth of HMV money off vouchers, thanks to all those that have contributed, and please keep those donations rolling in.
I had a series of letters after printing the one from Mr John Barton from Redcar, Cleveland last week. First of all a response from Miss Toni Cheviot of Stone, Staffordshire asking why I had put the letter in last weeks issue in response to her view of the rat olympics the week before, “I couldn’t believe you printed the letter from that ignorant caveman last week, for his information, I hope he never comes to Staffordshire as we don’t want that kind of small minded scum here anyway.” Mr Martin Edmunds of Burslem, Staffordshire writes, “If that dick John Barton ever tries to step foot in Staffordshire he’ll get proper fucked. I hate fucking northerners.” Mmmm, You’re a sensitive soul aren’t you Martin. It carries on. Mrs Janet Jump of Uttoxeter, Staffordshire writes, “I had the misfortune to spend the day in Redcar once, and it was the longest 8 hours of my life, I could feel the life being sucked out of me, how anyone from Redcar could criticize anywhere else in the country without ever having been there is beyond my comprehension”. Yes love you told us. There was also a letter from Mr Kristoff Bandeburg from Redcar having a go at me for casting dispersions on Redcar, he wrote, “I moved to Redcar from Breitnau in South West Germany near the Swiss border 5 years ago, and have to comment that it is a much better place to live and I don’t think that it is right that you belittle it.” What can I say except for, what the fuck would a German know about good and bad places to live over here, everywhere is going to be good, when there aren’t so many krauts around.
My legal team have been having a fit at me this week, after received more threats of actions from Mr. Perrin’s Solicitors for causing their client mental cruelty. Shit. All I did was send him a Christmas card, cos I thought he might not get a lot in prison, I don’t see the problem with it myself but there’s obviously no accounting for how sensitive some people might be.
This week will get messy, with Squirrel going on his works Christmas party on Friday night, which just happens to be the longest night of the year, and an attempt on a dusk til dawn drinking exercise will be attempted. Then for a last night out before Christmas with G Man, Ricky and Hopalong on Saturday night before they all head off home for Christmas leaving Squirrel to do some serious damage all by himself on Christmas eve, and Christmas day, before anyone returns on Boxing day. See y’all next week.
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TOTAL = 12
CUMMILATIVE TOTAL = 59