Lit up like a Christmas tree
My Dad's cousin lives a short walk from my parents, and has a small raised bed at the front of his drive where it abuts the pavement. There's a couple of dwarf conifers in there, and, each Christmas, he hangs a string of fairy lights around them. Very twinkly and pretty they are, too.

My parents have this tradition of inviting everyone they know around for mulled wine on Christmas Eve; when I was a student in the mid-to-late-90s, I piggy-backed this tradition, and each year would invite my schoolfriends around prior to going into town to get leathered and try to get off with people celebrate the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ ^TM.

The doorbell rang, and my mother answerd it. Standing there were my friends R and O, already a little worse for wear. (I've mentioned O here before - and this may have been a prelude to the sluggy events of this post.) Both were a picture of politeness, and Mum was - as ever - plesed to see them both. But she did ask O to remove the traffic cone he was wearing as a hat before he came in. (Notwithstanding that it was only one of the small yellow ones, he must still have had a neck like an ox.)

R and O shambled into the living room, and greeted the other guests - among whom were my Dad's cousin and his wife. Someone complemented O on the string of fairy lights with which he'd bedecked himself, and asked him if they lit up.
"Oh, no," said O in a fit of alcoholic honesty. "I just sort of grabbed them from someone's garden down the road here..."

Well, that killed the atmosphere.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 14:05, 1 reply)

Honesty and stupidity
Are such a lovely combo. Together with looking like a Xmas fairy, that is a fine story.
(boozehound is drinking your bar dry, Fri 8 Oct 2010, 23:36, closed)