Ante Christ

So, Christ's Mess 2009 is well and truly over for another year. Actually it's the last time Christ's Mess 2009 will ever happen so that statement is bullshit really. Anyhoo, it has been a pretty quiet one this year, I got me some good stuff, some books about some olden days wars and it was a Krautrock Christ's Mess this year with albums by Amon Dull II, Faust and Kraftwerk all being well received. . The rest of it has been lost in an alcoholic haze that began the day before Jesus' Birthday and pretty much ended yesterday.

It's my birthday, Motherfuckers!

Most of my time has been spent at relatives houses, I saw Neil and Lou's gaff for the first time on Christ's Mess day. It was surprisingly tasteful, I told them. It seems compliments are not always well received. Neil served me with a poor man's version of a Mojito all night, although I'm fairly sure there was no Bacardi in the last two, just lemonade and mint. Lou served the world's most miserable buffet; Party Eggs supplemented proper Scotch Eggs, cheese puffs in place of Hand Cooked Crisps. Having said that, her home made sausage rolls were fantastic. Ian had his (in)famous quiz, one that I have won for the past two years and I was back to defend my title. This time, however, the quiz was loaded against me, it was more like A Question of Sport than Mastermind and I was knocked from my position of number one. A History question, a History question, my Kingdom for a History question! I won't be going back next year.

Who took over as chairman of Arsenal in 1956?
How the fuck should I know?

On Christ's Mess Eve I'd put a bet on a Horse on the King George VI's Chace at Kempton. Ian had given me a hot tip on a nag called Racing Demon. I should have known, most horses that win are called Mustapha's Moustache or Pieface Thackery or some other ridiculous moniker. Calling a horse Racing Demon is just asking for trouble, it's too much pressure from the start. The race was run on Boxing Day and James and I called over to Ian and Chris' to watch the affair. If the gee gee romped home I was looking at a win of about £800, enough to ship me off to Japan and New Zealand in March. The moment arrived and they were off! At the first bend of the three mile course, the lame fucking donkey that I'd put my fortune on was pulled out of the race. The commentators never said but was probably shot and turned into glue afterwards.

and coming in last is Racing Demon...