It has, it is true, been some time since I wrote a post, but it's been Christmas and that so I'm sure my non-existent readership will forgive me. Good Christmas, NER? (as I have decided to affectionally call you.) Happy New Year? Good, very glad to hear it.

Well, let me tell you about my Christmas in tedious detail. The highlight was surely the presentation of a shiny new Playstation 2 from Santa. And not one of those crappy old ones, oh no, but one of the new tiny silver ones. Having become a single man recently, it's apparently now a legal requirement that I own one, so quite a stroke of luck that Father Christmas got his act together before I had those goddamn Feds knocking my door down and, er, telling me to spread 'em or whatever.

The lowlight was probably opening the box of said shiny new Playstation 2 and discovering to my horror that a vital lead was missing and I was thus unable to do a damn thing with it, other than crouch over it protectively, my bitter tears staining its beautiful, shimmering surface like acid rain on a rose petal.

Naturally the day after Boxing Day I was down the Sony shop (Wakefield branch), armed with righteous indignation and an imaginary son whose Christmas had been ruined (ruined!) by their incompetence and lax attitude. The snorting imbecile behind the counter informed me that it wasn't their fault - the equipment was packaged by Sony and sent to them. He gave me the missing lead. I tried to get free stuff off him. He refused. I ranted on a bit about my poor little lad and his current near-comatose state due to crushing disappointment. He still wouldn't give me a free memory stick. I asked to speak to the manager. He'd popped out (even though I'd spoken to him on the phone ten minutes earlier). I asked for the contact details of their head office. They don't have one - they're all independent resellers. Bollocks. I asked for the phone number of Sony. He gave me it. I issued him with a withering stare and stormed out of the shop.

If only there was anyone reading, I could start a smear campaign against the Wakefield Sony shop and then they'd be sorry. They'd be begging me to have a free memory stick if only I'd stop besmirching their reputation and driving their customers away in droves. Ah well. At least, at the end of the day, I've got a Playstation 2. Plenty of people don't even have that basic requirement, so I suppose I should count myself lucky.

Other than that, then, the festive season was pretty much the standard merry-go-round of heavy drinking, wearisome family occasions and Jenga. All good fun, for the most part.

Want to hear what I did for New Year's Eve? I bet you do. Oh yes. I know your sort. I bet you'd bloody love to.