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This is a question Christmas Tales

Deskbound says: "We found my nan's false teeth under the table a few hours after we'd finished Christmas lunch. The teeth still had a mouthful of food in them." Share your Crimble-related stories.

(, Thu 19 Dec 2013, 15:09)
Pages: Popular, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

No, not the game that's only fun if you're naked and stoned, but the "I don't think we're in Kansas any more" variety - at least in miniature.

It's the evening of December 23rd, just as we're laying in to the initial rounds of booze and food, and listening to the howling wind from the first of the many recent storms. Mrs Moon Monkey tells me she heard a strange noise from the roof. I decide to not give a shit right now. Then she says she heard it again, so I look out of the window. Arse, there are roof-tiles scattered around the garden. I brave the weather, but it's too dark to see anything so I decide to carry on not giving a shit and pop the JD bottle.

The next day, I have to face the situation, and gingerly go to have a shufty. There's a largish patch of the roof with missing tiles, and curiously some of the remaining ones are pointing up, as if they've been lifted. Even stranger, the neighbour's roof has an identical patch of damage in exactly the same area.

Turns out that the wind was exactly in the right direction to hit the chimney stack and form a mini-tornado vortex, which lifted the tiles straight up.

I managed to get it fixed before major leak damage. Not so lucky the neighbour, who has been away all Christmas, and in fact hasn't returned yet to their extra Chrismas surprise...
(, Thu 2 Jan 2014, 11:56, Reply)

(, Thu 2 Jan 2014, 11:25, 3 replies)
get fucked

(, Wed 1 Jan 2014, 1:13, 9 replies)
Christmas this year has been the longest pity party that I can recall. One long disaster story, my Shitbook is like - OMG U ok babez OXO
The only upside being that some cunt didn't get served at Tesco.
(, Tue 31 Dec 2013, 16:11, Reply)
Poor old George the local Tesco trolley guy had a mild heart attack on the 22nd Dec*. After being told by his manager repeatedly that working at a large Supermarket chain he will get paid in full and stay at home so he can recover fully he turned up late afternoon Christmas Eve.
“Alright George, after all you've been through just stand politely by the door and explain that we’re shutting we don’t want to exasperate your situation when we all know that you should really be at home recuperating”
At 5 to 5 this guy came up to the door you know the type small, rat faced, lank hair and dishevelled waving a huge black dildo that, well let’s just say not only looked uncommon placed in a customer’s hands but had definitely been well used, almost as if someone had been hacking the bottom of it with Doc Martin boots, he was salivating ,spitting and drooling about the need for baby milk whilst proffering what was evidently a hand full of chocolate coins as payment , now George was getting a bit worried and decided that best thing would be to call for his immediate supervisor which was a good thing to do.
This guy looked like he had a fleet of Honda Accords at the ready and knew a thing about martial arts even though he was slightly less than George’s full height of 5’1” on tip toe, so as Doris the cleaning supervisor makes her way to front doors this guy legs it.
10 minutes later just as George was about to leave he noticed the return of this weirdo customer , as he feared for his life he got Doris to call the police and so they tried to stall him until the community at large could be protected from this evidentially deranged person demanding their names.
He managed to stalled him for a while even giving the names of Dan Germose and Beth Holjonamo, however he made his way in to the night going on to assault who ever knows

George said this guy had a look in eyes like they were in the wrong and that he wished something really bad on them, but after all it was Christmas and this guy probably had his own perspective on how the whole events had unfolded
*he told us this story at the local on Boxing Day**
** Or maybe it NEVER happened at all
(, Mon 30 Dec 2013, 21:25, 16 replies)
Wife gave birth to first child on the 22nd Dec. She wouldn't latch so was kept in to try to help breastfeeding. Eventually got home in the early hours of Christmas Eve.
By Christmas eve afternoon it was evident that baby wasn't happy on the boob and was distressed and hungry. Wife was sore and distressed too, so I was sent to Tesco's to stock up on formula to see us through Christmas day and Boxing Day.
Arrived at 5 to 5 as they were closing. Security knob on the door wouldn't let me in. So explained the situation expecting either logical sympathy or seasonal sympathy, or just plain common sense.
Prick still said no.
Felt like twatting the guy but he was bigger than me. So asked to speak to the manager.
Whilst waiting for him to appear, I fucked off to the petrol station that were open later and found some in there, so was almost happy.
Once the formula was in the car I went back and carried on waiting for the "busy" manager. When he eventually turned up, I ripped him a second arsehole and told the security guy what I thought of him too.
After I had calmed down I told thwm both that I'd be writing to their head office after taking their names.
I never did, but I hope their Christmasses were shit.
(, Mon 30 Dec 2013, 18:18, 80 replies)
Shits and Giggles
So my Scottish grandad came round Christmas day, he's blind so as you do when your 86, your wife's died and you've gone blind. You drink yourself blind drunk every day (see what I did there).

So he turns up, already been in the pub and had a few sherberts, he starts telling me and my brothers stories about the war, which he only ever talks about when pissed.

He told us about how one time during training for WW2 he got a promotion on the Monday and lost it on Tuesday after being found drunk on parade after celebrating his promotion. "I can only tell you these things when I've had a drink you see" Quality stuff. Then he shat himself.
(, Mon 30 Dec 2013, 13:56, 5 replies)
i got a laptop
and some CDs
and some vouchers
and a divorce

happy new year!!
(, Mon 30 Dec 2013, 12:40, 19 replies)
My dad gave me a radio controlled helicopter for this christmas.
I'm 31.
He offered to show me how to work it and immediately flew it into a tree.
I believe it is still there.
(, Mon 30 Dec 2013, 12:36, 3 replies)
My name is father christmas and i live in lapland. it is fantastic. i bring your seasonal gifts. i like seasonal gifts. one time you lit a fire. i went down your chimney, but the flames burnt my feet. i didnt like it

(, Sun 29 Dec 2013, 14:52, 3 replies)
One Christmas we went to Turkey but we didn't have turkey for our Christmas dinner.
We had lamb.
(, Sun 29 Dec 2013, 14:40, 10 replies)
This Christmas
...my lovely, dearest girlfriend got me a little hand written tag with our future address written in Chinese on it so that when we move over there next month, should little Halfaxa get lost all he has to do wave said tag in front of a taxi drivers face and hopefully be taken home and not wake up in a bath tub full of ice with various organs missing or sold into male prostitution.

No Christmas next year though.
(, Sun 29 Dec 2013, 13:46, 9 replies)
hat, books, scarf, and my eldest telling me he got engaged to his gf yesterday.
(, Fri 27 Dec 2013, 22:10, Reply)
I got socks
...and, and, and a box of those little extreme chili sauces from New Mexico, and a blow up zimmer frame and a cardigan and an unexpected guest and an indoor helicopter and another bottle of Bombay Sapphire and they let me cook sprouts and eat them and didn't make me leave the room when they kicked in and then we played with Mrs. Scars new espresso machine and then we watched Dr Who.

(, Fri 27 Dec 2013, 12:11, 10 replies)
Christmas on QOTW lasts two weeks, apparently.

(, Fri 27 Dec 2013, 11:39, 4 replies)
A little Christmas magic ...
Over here in sweltery hot Australia, Christmas is now done and dusted. We are all enjoying our well earned hangovers and considering getting in the pool.

This year, I am hosting family including a two year old. My kids are 10 and 6. A bit too old to believe in Santa. I conscripted them into a little magic on Christmas Eve.

We cut out reindeer footprints and laid them down from the front door, into the lounge room, with a little tango in front of the Christmas tree, before proceeding through the house and out the back door.

And a large pile of sultanas as reindeer poo. Squeals of delight from two year old niece on Christmas morning was awesome.
(, Thu 26 Dec 2013, 21:40, 6 replies)
Mine has been fine until today
I bought a few crates of wine for my clients which I dished out with the blithe generosity of the honest local businessman, doing his best in a competitive market and many thanks for all your orders and instructions during the year and I forgive you, you cheeky scamps, for sending me on 70 mile wild goose chases and all the best and I'll see you next year ha ha more of the same, eh, bigger and better.

They weren't TOTALLY cheap - I tend to use my Nectar points off the years diesel towards Sainsburys wine crates. Specifically, there were 18 bottles of Pinot Grigot and 18 bottles of Shiraz.

There were three spare bottles - my reward for taking them - and an hour ago I decided to have a little treat and scoff one of the Shiraz.

It is fucking FOUL. I know a bit about what wine should be and I know a bit about red diesel and this stuff is definitely the latter. I had half a glass and an hour later my mouth still tastes like I've been chewing a gull after an oil spill.

I've given 16 bottles of this to people upon whom I rely to keep me in a living and I'm going to have to look them in the eye sooner or later. I suppose a few of them will just hold their noses and scoff it out of the bottle but I do have - did have - an element of respectable, discerning clientele who have received from me a present of fence preservative masquerading as Shiraz.

(, Thu 26 Dec 2013, 18:44, 7 replies)
if you've had a perfect christmas
with no fights, no tantrums, no unwanted or just plain shit presents, no embarrassing drunk relatives, no turkey disasters and no remembering something vital 5 minutes after the shops have shut, you're either living alone or lying.
christmas isn't perfect. we want it to be, so we try so hard to make it what we want. it'll never match up, so we feel it's been terrible. failed at christmas? yeah, just you and every other fucker. stop trying to control it and go with the flow. it's so much easier. save the grief for next month's credit card bill.

EDIT: this is basically to everyone who's stressed themselves out. i haven't, but i've seen it everywhere in the past few days and it's pointless. mums especially, calm down, we really are enjoying it!
(, Thu 26 Dec 2013, 16:43, 32 replies)
I used to hate Christmas.
My former long term partner compelled me to go to the celebrations at her parents' house.

Frankly, I would have preferred self-trepanation, an ice-pick in the eye and a corkscrew in the urethra, simultaneously, than go to Crimbo at her olds.

Offers of Xmas away overseas at delightful resorts or adventure holidays or relevant to her current interest were always declined. There was no other place she would be at Christmas than her parents' home. Ugh.

Her mum was already legless on the cheapest Chateau C'ardboard by 10:00 am - falling down drunk legless - and she was the cook.

The other family members, two brothers and a sister, had only one speaking volume: LOUD. Ear-piercingly loud - and they all talked at the same time at the table.

Sis-in-law was a teenage nymphomaniac (a minor) who made unveiled overtures to any non-family male, even my gruesome self, in front of her parents, and often. Nice tits, shame about the age and the relationship by marriage.

Bro-in-law-MK-I was milder, and did his best to not attend, but he fitted in rather well when he did, much to the chagrin of his fiancée.

BIL-MK-II was a drug fiend and was either stoned, peaking, speeding, on the nod or a combination of all, and constantly sodding off the the loo to load up again. His gf was usually hallucinating after a two or more day bender on goey or ice.

Father-in-law had his own bad tale of his own doing, but at least that was less visible.

Issues? Oh yes - they had a few. I didn't find out about these 'joys' until after the wedding...

Pissed mum-in-law always fouled up at least one significant dish to the point of unpalatable, putting it mildly, even if she had help in the kitchen. The foul-up usually involved enough salt to recreate Lot's wife, or enough garlic to slay all vampires, or appeared to be her attempt at a burnt offering, sans altar. Her desserts, on the upside, were delightfully artery-clogging and very tasty and never failed. They were usually made the day previous.

Father-in-law always put out a few bottles of nice scotch. It was to his taste and not to that of any other family members, other than his Mum who had a wee dram. Me? I hit it like the fist of an angry god, putting away a bottle before lunch. At least that gave me an excuse to go sleep it off in the front parlour, far away from the dining room, after eating and being sociable while the 'festivities' continued.

Christmas these days? Rather more pleasant.

I choose to invite who shares the table. Good friends who also have families far away are much more pleasing than unfavourable folk forced into one's life, as are good friends who want to be with friends and eschew their family at this time of year.

Happy? Yes, rather.
(, Thu 26 Dec 2013, 11:52, 32 replies)
Want to spoil your family this Christmas?
Make them a turducken from free-range, organic turds.
(, Wed 25 Dec 2013, 15:14, 2 replies)

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