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This is a question Presents

What are you buying your loved ones this Christmas? We're looking for inspiration and reckon a big share-a-thon of ideas will help everyone buy better gifts this year.

BTW: If your family reads B3ta and you're worried about giving the game away then tell us what you bought last Christmas.

(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 12:34)
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This question is now closed.

I like being a rubbish uncle
My niece told me she wanted a Wii for christmas.

I can't wait to see the look on her face when she realises I've given her a jam jar full of piss.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 16:49, 2 replies)
my sister
when she was very small, wanted to give everyone in the family christmas presents that she had chosen and wrapped up herself. Sadly, being young and stupid, she was unaware of the concept of money or shopping, so we each got something we already owned that she had half-inched from us prior to Christmas day. Dad got one of his slipper, mum got a rolling pin, and I got a Puddle Lane book that I'd already written 'This book belongs to vitamin c' in.

I've got her a special teapot this year (from a company called teapots to talk about) - it's got Scottish and Dutch flags painted on it, and 'time for tea' and 'fancy a cuppa' written in english and dutch on the sides - she lives in the Netherlands with her other half. As presents go, it's a damn site better than a single slipper.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 16:47, 1 reply)
Mum's the word
My mum's birthday's on christmas eve. I usually ask her if she'd like one big present for both, to which she invariably replies "Well I could do with a new [insert low cost cooking implement here]".

I usually get her something nice, despite her modest request.

This year, however, she's going to get a whisk.

Lets hope it doesn't cause too much of a stir.

(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 16:45, 1 reply)
Every sodding year I have the same telephone conversation with my mother:-
Mum: Auntie Joan has asked me what you want for Christmas…
Me: I don’t want anything.
Mum: I have to tell her something.
Me: I’m a grown man; she doesn’t have to buy me anything anymore.
Mum: Yes I know, but she’s very fond of you…
Me: I’m an accountant mother; nobody is very fond of me.

And it goes on like that, I explain that a book would be the perfect gift as I love reading and mum explains that my auntie wouldn’t know which book to choose for me. I explain that I will read anything and she reminds me of the time 15 years ago that she bought me a book that I had already read. I suggest that I could buy the book, give it to her to pass on to my auntie who could wrap it up and give it back to me as a present. Mum says that it wouldn’t be a surprise and I explain that it’s not a problem as “I‘m not a fucking child anymore”. My mother then tells me off for swearing.

Shall I answer the actual QOTW? I have a gentleman’s agreement with my brother and every male on the planet not to swap cards or presents. This works remarkably well and I suggest to every male B3tard reading this to give it a go. You are already in this agreement with myself and you have to admit that it’s worked well so far.

I will buy my mother a good book and a bottle of Champagne, my father will receive an excellent bottle of whisky. I don’t have a wife or girlfriend so sorry lads, you’re on your own (although I am reliably informed that the ladies can never have “too much” jewellery.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 16:43, 6 replies)
Over the years, I've bought my sister some lovely things;
A multi-speed vibrator
A lovely book, with illustrations, called "The fine art of vaginal fisting".

She's a bit wary about pressies from me now.

PS -you can get both of these from Amazon. The section, "People who bought these also bought...", really made me wonder what I should get her this year.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 16:41, 3 replies)
I love Sickipedia
so I'm going to get it a duplicate checker that works and a selection of contributors who don't duplicate in the first 4king place.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 16:14, 1 reply)
The Lonely Island knew where it was at when it came to gift giving
To all the fellas out there with ladies to impress
It's easy to do just follow these steps
1: Cut a hole in a box
2: Put your junk in that box
3: Make her open the box
And that's the way you do it
It's my dick in a box... my dick in a box babe
It's my dick in a box, my dick in a box girl
Christmas; dick in a box
Hanukkah; dick in a box
Kwanzaa; a dick in a box
Every single holiday a dick in a box!
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 16:12, 3 replies)
Sensible Soccer
On your telly? Just like the old days?

This got me through one festive season:
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 16:06, 8 replies)
Lazy Santa
Office Secret Santa last year. £5 budget.

I found out about the person I was buying for, their interests, etc., and bought her a cheap kids' origami kit because she liked arts and crafts and has two kids.

I got a fiver in an envelope.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 15:56, Reply)
I like this QOTW
Far too many stories, but the one that springs to mind, is taking my little sister Christmas shopping when she was about eight. I have lots of siblings, and when they're small my parents give them some money and let them buy some presents- generally sweets/toys for the other kids.

My little sister was concentrating very hard on picking lovely presents with her £30 and since she has good taste for one so young, she was doing well. The only person who puzzled her was Dad (who is very hard to get gifts for- he can never think of anything.) Since he loves computers and gadgets, that's what we mostly see him around.

After thinking very very hard, she toddled off and came back with the PERFECT gift for him. Smiling hugely she handed me an extension cable and a plug. I've never laughed so hard in my life
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 15:40, 2 replies)
I'm fed up giving crap
Now I don't mind spending money, but if it's just for the sake of buying something, I do feel like it's a bit of a waste. Your house fills up with crap, and seeing it never used is just a constant remonder of money not well spent.

My wife now gets things like theatre tickets, because not only does she enjoy the show, I get to go as well (as long as it's not too soppy).
"Keeper for the Day" experiences at the local zoo means I can follow her around and partake in my hobby of photography too. I quote enjoyed the "Balloon Ride For Two" I got her a couple of years ago!

This year she's getting a "Glider Experience" - I don't think I'll be able to wangle getting in the cockpit for that one though :-(
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 15:35, Reply)
I'm gonna buy...
the usual girly shit for my wife (PJ's, hot water bottle, jewellery etc) but I'm also going to chuck in a couple of joke items.

One idea I had was haemorrhoid cream - Whenever we do the weekly food shop I always make a rather loud statement about how she's running out (making sure there are people within earshot) and then laugh like a loon at the hilarity. I think it's only right that I should buy her some.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 15:35, 4 replies)
Remote control helicopters
My brother's girlfriend bought him a pair one christmas. Great fun battling each other but the most fun is to be had trying to land one on the cat. Yes I'm 38.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 15:15, 14 replies)
Measuring up
For the first time in my life I’ve actually sorted out my Christmas presents early, so I won’t be joining the queue of nervous, agitated, annoyed muthafuckers at the Texaco late night garage on Christmas Eve to collect the usual upholstery cleaning sets, chamois leathers, car air fresheners and boxes of 200 Marlborough Lights to wrap in tin foil and pass round my nearest and dearest, which is apparently the most appropriate way to celebrate the birth of some fucking hippy who died two thousand years ago. No, this year my friends and family are getting proper presents instead. Nice presents. All properly wrapped with little bows and everything.

I’ve bought my partner various bits and pieces, but what with us trying for a kid at the moment it’s become painfully obvious that the whole sex thing has become slightly formulaic. It’s a never ending cycle of pissing on little ovulation sticks (her not me, apparently they don’t work if I do it), doing the deed, pissing on more sticks, taking temperatures, testing mucus (no matter how hard I think about this word in a sexy way it remains distinctly unsexy; reminds me of Slimer out of Ghosbusters), then we do the deed a bit more, then more stick pissing, and so on. Quite frankly it’s the first time in either of our lives we’ve thought about sex as a means to getting pregnant, and not a means for getting our rocks off, respectively.

So, with this in mind I decided the only plausible course of action was to go and buy some luxurious, prohibitively expensive - equivalent to the gross domestic product of a small African country expensive - lingerie. Oh, fuck me – if only I realized how fucking hard this could be…

Walking into the shop the assistant, who looked like she's about ten, noticed me hovering round the fancy pants, corsets and shit. After a while she came over: “You looking for something for yourself?” Great, she thinks I’m a fucking tranny, oh, just fucking marvelous… Then she laughs and goes into her sales spiel. Thank fuck she was only joking, breaking the ice. I explain I’m looking for some sexy gear for my girlfriend. Then she asks the question. The heart-stopper. “No problem, sir. Do you know her bra size?” Now, I know my girlfriend’s tits quite well (better than most, I’d hope), I could pick them out blindfolded in a You Bet style line-up of a hundred pairs of norks, with Matthew Kelly standing in the background egging me on. But – for the life of me – I didn’t have a fucking clue what bra size she is. “Do you know what size knickers she is?” asked the girl. Fuck! I shook my head, told her I’d have to get back to her, and left.

That night at home I rummaged through my girlfriend’s underwear drawer – nothing unusual about that. But this time I was actually doing something productive and didn’t have my pants round my ankles. I was searching for labels, labels with measurements. No joy. Every single fucking bra had the label neatly snipped out. Every pair of knickers was the same.

The next day at work I looked up at the receptionist, Nikki, as I was walking past. Or – to be more precise – I was assessing Nikki’s chesticles. They were pretty much the same make and model as hers indoors. After I’d gazed at Nikki’s rack for a little too long she coughed and enquired if I needed anything. I enquired: “What bra size are you?” Nikki just stared. And stared. And stared. And then she said: “Fuck off you dirty bastard,” and carried on with her filing. Oh, fucking marvelous! Just fucking fan-fucking-tastic!

Returning to my desk I started looking up lingerie on the internet. No help. Wasn’t going to find out what my girlfriend’s chest size was there… So, in desperation, I sent her a text asking her for her measurements outright. After a while she sent me the info back. Then on lunch I went down to the boutique and picked out an assortment of posh grundies, one of those corset things, some matching bras, the works. Then I went to the till and had a heart attack as the girl rang up the total. Paid. Left. Job done. Went back to work to be confronted by my boss who wanted to know why I’d been looking at, to use his own words: “saucy girls,” on the internet.

Later that evening at home my girlfriend enquired why I wanted to know her measurements. I considered saying: “Me and the fellas were playing girlfriend Top Trumps and I needed your stats,” thought better of it and said: “Oh well, you know… Christmas is coming…”

There was a long pause. “Yeah, fair enough. But if you buy kinky underwear that’s really a gift for you, not for me…”

Bollocks…. All that hassle… All that walking round London in the pissing rain… The possible sexual harrassment and ‘surfing for porn’ charges at work…

Think I might just get her an Ipod and be fucked with it.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 15:12, 25 replies)
My Brother
I don’t look forward to Christmas. Well, certainly not entertaining my brother. He’s quite frugal you see. Now I’m well aware of these shrewd types you often hear about; queer folk that’ll use tea bags three or four times, will wear the same clothes day in, day out and will refuse to switch their central heating on. But my brother...

Well, my brother goes slightly further than these meek and miserly souls. His house is broken, dirty, has never been painted, and is bedecked with a chilly sparsity; old orange boxes/crates populate those areas of the living room that chairs should inhabit and he has no carpets, pictures or curtains. And he constantly grumbles about the price of nails.

You’d think he was poor from the above, but oh no. He does, in fact, have lots of money but he chooses never to spend it or to give it to anybody. His Christmas present to me is barely worth mentioning here.

However, he’s had something of an epiphany this year. He seems to have changed his ways. He’s become immensely kind. He said he has been taught a lesson as to the selfishness of his ways and has told me to look forward to this Christmas as his present to me is going to be twice as good as last year’s!

Here’s my brother.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 14:56, Reply)
My niece absolutely loves animals.
A few years ago she developed a dinosaur fixation, so I got her a T-Rex hand puppet, which she thought was the best thing ever. The dinosaur thing seems to have been a phase, but on the basis that she is animal daft, and that the dino puppet went down well, I've got her this:


All I need to do now is prise it from the arm of my missus, and it's job done.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 14:55, 2 replies)
When I was smaller
My parents had a tradition that they would get me and my sister some small unwrapped presents in a stocking, to be removed from the stocking first thing in the morning. My sister pulled out a box of chocolate truffles, which both me and her love deeply.

I pulled out a pair of socks.

With a cry of "A HA!" my sister pulled out a second box of truffles.

With a reciprocal cry I whipped my other present out of my stocking and held it aloft in triumph. My sister burst out laughing. So did my parents. After a moment, so did I.

It was a book entitled "A passion for cheese".

As my mum put it "Well, you do like cheese".

(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 14:38, 1 reply)
The Mystery Box!
A box of wonderment full (potentially) of geeky goodness!
Stuck for a present to buy someone? Head over to Firebox and purchase one of their find £20 or £30 Mystery Boxes!

All you know is that the value of goods contained within will be greater than the amount you actually paid for it!.

Bought one for myself a while back, got a solar charging lamp with auto on switch via a light sensor, a pizza cutter shaped like a circular saw (now have to make the noise when cutting pizza!), and a weird magnetic torch shaped like a mine!

Completely random shit!
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 14:32, 1 reply)
As usual
I will be buying thoughtful and considerate presents for loved ones. I always do, I'm very good at pressie buying and often recieve what I feel to be genuine "oh wow thats really good" reactions and surprise which is lovely.

To reciprocate, I always send out the URL to my amazon wishlist, have done since 1997. I add to the list throughout the year, during browsing, rarely buying, just adding and then I look forward to recieving things that I would actually like.

In 12 years, and lets say 20 regular participants, I have never recieved one single thing off the list. I have recieved random thoughtless items that end up on freecycle/charity shops by Jan 10th. I hate random 'stuff'. In fact, fuck it, this year, everyones getting sweet fuck all, except my other half and little boy cos I lost my job. I might get my parents something off of freecycle, or a 1p ebay auction.

bah humbug...
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 14:16, 2 replies)
I'm off to France till the 3rd January...
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 14:11, 4 replies)
I was toying with the idea
Of getting my dad a glass of orange juice, a croissant and a Honda Accord.

But sadly, our present will be bluemeat-junior, who should turn up sometime in the next few weeks.

This kinda puts my Honda plans on the back burner.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 14:08, Reply)
Due to extreme poorness
it's going to be another 'Poundshsop Christmas' for my family. :(
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 14:00, 2 replies)
I'm getting Mr t0ria a Brubox.

Its a do it yourself beer kit. I've bought the London bitter. I'm the best girlfriend ever.

"Never before has home beer-making been so easy, tasty and problem free. With The BruBox there is no mess, no smell and, due to the entirely closed production method, virtually no chance of infection.
There are three variants in the BruBox range; London Bitter, Irish Extra Stout and Bavarian Pilsner, each producing 10 litres of fantastic quality beer.
Each kit consists of the finest quality brewing grade malt extract, genuine top or bottom fermenting yeast and our revolutionary new BruBag system which, for the first time, enables fresh hops and grains to be used to enhance the flavour without any messy straining"

10 litres of beer... should keep him quiet for a bit.

ED: Sorry it reads like I'm spamming it but I honestly don't work for them!
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 13:53, 8 replies)
my parents enjoy going to Atlantic City to gamble, so they get money, and I am spared headaches of trying to think what to get them..
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 13:53, 2 replies)
all round. End of.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 13:48, 5 replies)
A day on a pig farm, helping the farmer!
My dad likes pigs.
(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 13:46, 8 replies)
Lego for everyone.
So they can make something like this....


(, Thu 26 Nov 2009, 13:43, Reply)

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