Food, Wine and Animal Torture: My Christmas

(In order to read the writing in this post, please click Read More! at the bottom of the post. Otherwise you will view just the first paragraph and all the pictures)


No, don't worry, neither of those large presents were for me. One was a giant under-the-car-bumper lamp thing (!) for my sister's boyfriend, and the other was a food processor for her.


So yes, I thought I'd tell you a bit about Christmas chez moi.


Normally I'm rather disappointed with our Christmas dinner. We always have MASSIVE Sunday roasts each week, but because we usually have 10-12 people at Christmas, the portions become smaller, and I am less satisfied with the quality of our repas. However, this year the portions were much more sizable as my uncle's side of the family didn't come, my grandparents were ill, my great aunt was scared to leave the house because of ice, and another family member's in prison. Hallelujah! Ahem...




So yes, as there were only the five of us (me, Mum, Dad, sister and sister's boyfriend), we had a nice quiet day of massive portions, lots of wine and cruel abuse of our two dogs.


So, the meal:

The food begins being piled up...

Then a bit more...

Finishing touches...

Voila!

After dinner, we decided to entertain ourselves with some routine humiliation of our pets. My sister's boyfriend tried to get a photo of our Beagle with a Santa's hat on. Needless to say this task became increasingly difficult, as the poor thing didn't particularly enjoy having a piece of itchy fabric held against his head:

Get this thing off of me!                   Get that camera out of my face!               Oh, well, if you must...

One day, master, I will kill you. Slowly and painfully.

Then we tried the same on our other dog:

NO! GET IT OFF OF ME! YOU MONSTER! I'LL BITE YOU! I SWEAR I WILL THIS TIME! Oh...fine then.

Ow, stop grabbing the back of my neck, I won't go anywhere, I promise!

Ooh yes, and earlier on in the day I lay the table:

What, I'm not aloud to boast? It's my blog!

And finally, at the end of a long day, it was time to have a nap.

My dad wrapped up on a chair in his blanket:

My dismembered headless father

And my dog more conventionally went to sleep in front of the fire:

We beat her till she lay sobbing on the floor, a shadow of her former self...
Think animal abuse jokes are insensitive? Tough.

Hope you enjoyed these photos of what may be the last Christmas of my childhood (hey, I have to link this post to my blog's theme somehow).


Farewell!


The Gent
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