Christmas dinner eaten?
Too full to move?
Forget the washing up. Have a Christmas giggle.

Here is the transcript (proofread). 



It’s Christmas! Oh yeah Christmas. It’s all happening now init? It’s all happening.


All the women, the women you can see. They get that sort of organizational look in their eye. Just completely obsessed with planning. “I’ve got to get ready. I’ve got to get ready. I’ve got so much to think about.”


It happens. I think at the final firework on fireworks night, when you have the finale – and the smoke clears, and you see all the women going “Christmas” – “Got to start getting ready for Christmas. Mum. Christmas is coming. Don’t talk to me, I’m thinking, I’m planning I need so …  there’s so much to do darling!”


Men do the tree. I love – I love getting my tree, and putting my tree up in my house. Come darling, see the tree I chose.  Big bushy tree. Then you decorate, it looks beautiful, doesn’t it?  And one of the main things you have to do when decorating a tree, as we all know, is you have to make sure that the plug is right at the back and the wire, so you can’t see it so it doesn’t ruin the aesthetics. The problem with this, of course, is that every night you leave it on because it looks so lovely, then you’re halfway up the stairs and you stop, and you think – there could be a fire. 


Which means that literally every night of December before bed, I’m downstairs under the tree.  “Darling, can you help? I can’t reach the button – button.


I’ll tell you what – December – Prime Time – for Sellotape and scissors, that’s when these two really come into their own, isn’t it?   By the way everyone in this room has Sellotape and scissors, and you think you know where they are, they’re, probably not there, because they’re always on the move.  You’re sitting there going. I actually know where my Sellotape and scissors are, but no not when you want them not when you bloody want them!  I’ll, be opening the drawer. I thought they were … “Who’s moved the scissors?” They move on their own, the scissors, they’re crafty, little blighters, and the Sellotape, but as soon as you leave the Sellotape unattended, it will wind itself up when you’re, not looking.  Days on end of December are spent with me, just looking round the tape see, how could this have happened surely soon, soon I will find a way in.  I’m looking at what – I think I’ve been here now for three days and then you find it. Finally, I’m in! Then you get some kind of weird backward triangle bit, I’m not in. I thought I was in, but I’m not in. 


Sometimes you give up – I am not going to look for the scissors anymore, I’m going to buy new scissors. I don’t care, I don’t need to spend my whole life looking for scissors. I’m going to get new scissors. 


You think you’ve won, you think you’ve won, don’t you, you get your new scissors. I’ve got some new scissors. Forget the answers I’m going to spend my whole life looking for those babies, here’s my new scissors.  Then you realize that the scissors come in a plastic packaging that closely, closely covers the scissors, and you can’t get in unless you have scissors. 


The very thing you need is staring at you through the plastic window, and they look at you, don’t they?  Find a way in [ __ ]. You can’t can you?  Go on find your old scissors.  You thought you’d won, you haven’t, won, we’ve won. The scissors have won.


Most people use their scissors in the classic scissor way, don’t they?  They cut this … you know how to use scissors? You get the paper, you see how much you might need, then you start cutting like that. That’s how people cut, but there are some people amongst us – gifted special people – the gliders. These people are amazing – hidden within normal society. Some can even do the ribbon thing. 


Most of us – we’re not gifted in this way.  Yet every single year, each and every non-gifted glider attempts the glide. Make sure that nobody is looking. We try and do something we’ve seen other people do. I think you probably just push it there. I’ve ruined the paper. I’ve ruined the paper, it was supposed to go. I will save my next attempt for next year.


We are in to the festive period, which of course means huge amounts of eating for most of us.  We eat more than we would ever normally eat at Christmas. It’s always – it’s a time of year to test to see just how much we can eat. On Christmas day I eat until the announcement, I eat until I lean back and go, “Well, that’s it! I can eat no more, I’m completely and utterly stuffed. I can’t eat another thing. I will never ever eat again.”  And I mean it.  


Half an hour later, I’m going to have a sandwich out of all the leftovers. I can’t believe I’m still eating. I genuinely believed I would never eat again half an hour ago. I have an amazing capacity for food. 


I think it’s a Christian thing. Christians love to eat to excess on their holidays. Other religions starve themselves on holiday. Jewish people have a holiday, they starve themselves. Muslims have a holiday, they starve themselves. It’s almost like Christians have had somebody look through the bible for opportunities to eat to excess. 


What have you got for me? Well, it says here that Jesus had a very big meal, then he starved himself for 40 days and 40 nights.  Woah, woah, woah, go back. What was the first part? It says he had a very big meal: Jesus.  Okay, let’s focus on that day. I say we eat pancakes, all day. We will celebrate the day with pancakes, we’ll eat pancakes till we’re sick. 


What else have you got? Well? It says here that Jesus died on the cross – tricky.  All right, let’s take the symbol of a cross and put it on a hot bun. We’ll eat hot cross buns, until we’re sick.  How about that?  And the house will smell amazing – they smell divine.


And then apparently he was resurrected on the Sunday.  You know what, I don’t even want to hear the story. We’ve already made our decision we’re going to hide chocolate in the garden, and eat till we’re sick.  


And, of course, all the traditions now, all the traditions of Christmas, which we love, I mean without the tradition of Christmas Christmas Christmas – would not be what it is. But the point is we don’t really like all of them, but we pretend to because it’s Christmassy: mulled wine, hot wine – We don’t like hot wine. We spend the whole year avoiding hot wine.  


You don’t have tea, coffee, hot wine? Why offer me hot wine? Because it’s Christmas. Oh, I love this hot spiced, boiled wine.  Sickly, sweet wine. It smells nice.  After one sip, it’s quite nice. Then it starts to cool and you abandon it. No one’s ever finished a mulled wine. 


I don’t think, I’ll leave it there. 


Brussels sprouts? Why do we put ourselves through this annual bush tucker trial? We don’t like them!  Who decided we should be eating these squashed up, vegetable fart balls, every year?


We don’t even like turkey! We don’t eat turkey all year. There’s no Kentucky fried turkey!  We don’t like turkey. It’s quite a dry flavourless meat. You only have to look at what we do to it to tolerate it. Okay? We cover it in cranberry, sauce and gravy. We stuff it with meat we’d rather be eating.  Bread sauce? Since when was bread a sauce? 


Do you want some bread sauce?


Yes, pour that bread all over my turkey.  


More fart balls?


Don’t mind if I do. Any more of that hot, sickly wine?


And crackers.  Who looked at Christmas lunch and said, I know what this needs: a paper hat, a bad joke and some toenail clippers.  That would really round off this meal.


The fact is, we wouldn’t choose – okay, we wouldn’t choose any of these things, if we had the choice.  At no time during the year, would we go to a restaurant – the waiter comes over…


Can I get you the wine list? 


Have you got any hot wine? Particularly, hot, sickly, boiled fruity wine, that I don’t like after one sip.  Have you got any of that?


Like any bread for the table?


Liquid bread. Have you got liquid bread, like someone’s chewed up a loaf and put it into a jug? I’m gonna pour that over my main meal tonight. 


Chef’s special is the chicken. 


Have you got any drier, less flavoursome meat, please, like a turkey?


Any side, orders?


Have you’ve got any fart grenades from Belgium?


Is there anything else I can get you?


I think a mini sewing kit would round this off quite nicely. Oh, and actually waiter, half an hour after I’ve finished, I want everything again in a sandwich. Thank you. 


There’s such a magic, isn’t there, to that day?  It’s very different doing a Christmas show leading up to Christmas, as opposed to doing it on Christmas day. It’s such a special magical day. There’s such a build up to it, that when you’re in it, you can’t even believe that you’re in it.  You know.  You open the curtains and you’re like, that’s my road – on Christmas day. 


Sometimes you see other people, look at that man walking his dog – on Christmas day.


I’m having my morning pee, on Christmas day. 


Sometimes you visit relatives, you see other people in their cars. Look at them at the traffic lights. Look at them, on Christmas day.


There’s an airplane in the sky, on Christmas day.  


And this goes through the whole day, and you go to bed when you’re, just drifting off to sleep, going that’s the end of Christmas day. And then all the magic completely disappears overnight, and the next day, you’re just walking along going. “I’m going for a walk, on Boxing day.”


It’s gone, the magic is gone.


And then, quite frankly, you are into the strangest six days of the whole year. 


It is six days between Christmas day and New Year’s, where nobody quite knows what’s going on, who they are, you don’t even know what day it is.  We get so confused by they’ve started to change. the days aren’t called Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday now they’re called you know. Boxing day, Christmas eve, so you lose track of it, and you’re so full and hungover as well.  People just wandering around in a daze. What day is it? I don’t even know what day it is. Are the shops open? Do the shops open?  Have the sales started? I don’t know what day it is. Should I start my diet today? Do I start it today? Is there post today? Does the post come back? Can I park here today? What day is it?  Can I park here?  When do the bins get taken away? I’ve never had more rubbish in my life. 


Can I eat this bit of the turkey, or is the turkey finished? Can I have this bit of the turkey? 


What time is Chitty Chitty Bang Bang on? 


Nobody knows what they’re doing.  


Also all the stuff that you get for Christmas. What happens to it? What happens to it`?  I know we get big presents and it’s exciting, but there are certain things, that I don’t remember throwing away, but I never see them again after Christmas day.  Everything I or anyone in my family has ever won in a cracker. Where is it? Where does it go? I have no recollection of binning it, but I’ve never had anybody – nobody – has experienced somebody at any stage of the year just saying anything along the lines of, “Does anyone fancy a game of mini cards, mini cards?”  I find the full size deck, a little bit overwhelming, can we just play with the tiny cards?  I’m almost at my baggage allowance, so I bought my miniature cards that I won at Christmas. 


Why measure the whole carpet when we can measure this section, and guess the rest with my mini tape measure I won at Christmas? 


Does anyone have the tiniest amount of sewing I could attend to?  Not a lot of sewing, not a rip or a tear, just a fray.


So, anyway, how are you?


Let me consult my mini, coloured, curly fish. It’s curling up at the sides – I’m jealous.


But then men do come into their own, obviously uh at Christmas. You know they are. We do have jobs uh.  I chip into wrapping. My wife, does the wrapping because she’s the best at it, but she can’t do without me? There is always that moment when she calls me in Michael Michael. Can you put your finger there? 


Is that all right darling? 


Yes, thank you so much.


Just chipping in. just helping out darling. 


Sometimes she shouts at me in the year, “Michael, you never lift a figure in this house.”


“Hello! Christmas!”


And, of course the gluttony is insane. The amount of eating. We don’t even know that we’re capable of eating as much as we eat on Christmas day. We spend the rest of the year having meat and two veg, and then it’s suddenly seven meat, fifteen veg, please, and you sit there and you pile it up. I mean there’s vegetables going all over the table. There’s not even – sometimes there’s not enough room on the table for vegetables. You’ve got vegetables on the side tables, some on the floor. People are just passing around… You get a bit of panic, I haven’t had, have I had carrots, I need carrots.  Have you had the parsnips, you don’t even know if you’ve had anything, I don’t know, there’s such a huge pile. I think I see something orange in here. I may have had carrots.  I’ll tell you when I get down to that level. People around the dining table just stuffing food in their faces, farting brussels sprouts.


You’ve got sausages, fencing other foods in, and you eat so much that you then announce that, “That’s it. I can’t …”.  You actually can’t even believe you’ve eaten so much food. 


Sometimes people are undoing their buttons. 


“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much. I can’t move. Can you move?”


“I can’t. I’ll … you’re so sick? Oh, my god.”


You still sometimes see stray vegetables on the table. I don’t even know what I’m doing, I’m just adding it.  


And then you’ve got to get to the sofa. That’s at that stage of the day, all your thinking is sofa, but you’re so full you can’t even move. This is where I actually genuinely believe that the farting helps you. It helps. It helps propel you to the sofa. I am not kidding. You could actually sense with my grandmother that she was being propelled. You could see the acceleration along the corridor as she moved.  Once she actually stopped in the middle of the corridor. We had to give her more sprouts just a couple to get her over the edge.  And then you’re on! You’ve made it!