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(, Sun 1 Apr 2001, 1:00)
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Christmas bad: My parents' house is like the railway station. No privacy, nobody phones first to see if we're home/in the mood for visitors. My uncle Terry even palmed some of HIS (clinically insane) visitors onto us half an hour before djtp was due to arrive for exchanging presents and rescuing me back to my flat and that.
Christmas good: What's not good about being off work, getting out of bed when you like, drinking when you like, eating for Britain, getting spoiled by your parents, having the fiancé over for a whole week, catching up with people you like, and the house being all twinkly and cosy? And Tigger.
(, Wed 29 Dec 2010, 12:10, 5 replies, latest was 15 years ago)
(, Wed 29 Dec 2010, 12:18, Reply)
I was shitting in case our Terry's sister-in-law was still there in time to take all her kit off and tell my bf that God loves him!
(, Wed 29 Dec 2010, 12:21, Reply)
It sounds like fun, and at least you've got a story to tell.
(, Wed 29 Dec 2010, 12:24, Reply)
Me and my mum were running around upstairs convincing ourselves my Dad deserved to deal with the mentals because he was the one who offered them a drink.
(, Wed 29 Dec 2010, 12:26, Reply)
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