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Ah Christmas time. The silly season. The time to get jolly and load up on copious amounts of alcohol, various selections of meats, use nonsensical words such as 'tis and ho and sing such racially and politically inappropriate lyrics like "I'm dreaming of a White Christmas" and "Don we now our gay apparel."

I've always been fascinated by the image of Santa Claus. He's one of those mythical people that everyone celebrates for a short period of time, but quickly forgets for the rest of the year, such as Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and the winner of Big Brother. Much debate exists on his origin, with many people even attributing the modern day image of Santa to a series of Coca Cola advertisements. Regardless, whoever came up with him is a marketing genius. A bearded fat bloke who wears fur, carries a sack, hangs around with midgets and encourages children to sit on his lap. If he wasn't such an iconic figure you'd mistake him for a homeless pedophile.

It's such a wonderful time for children, especially Christmas eve with the anticipation of presents, the wanting to stay awake long enough to catch him visiting. I remember fondly as we left out cookies and milk for Santa so he could have a break from his reindeer driving. Sometimes we left out beer, I assume a lot of other people did the same. No wonder he's fat. This year though, I'm only going to leave out light beer... the booze buses are in full force at the moment, and I wouldn't want Santa to have to deliver all those presents catching public transport, especially at night. Actually I might just leave him a bottle of Viagra.. since he only comes once a year. Hmm. If I don't get any presents now for that terrible joke, I thoroughly deserve it.

I was one of those kids that worked out early on that Santa wasn't real. When I look back now it's pretty obvious. His thankyou notes were always in my parent's handwriting, we didn't even have a chimney for him to climb down, and it's hard to imagine Australia Post delivering a letter to the North Pole for 55c, especially with the cost of fuel these days.

I mean if you think about it, there’s really 3 stages of Santa that people go through in their life. 1. You believe in Santa. 2. You don’t believe in Santa. 3. You are Santa. 

I must confess to my lack of display of christmas affection. I don't put up a tree, I don't dress up the house with fluro lights like it's an obnoxious dwelling that has discovered rave music, and the closest I get to gift wrapping is to sing about presents to the tune of Ice Ice Baby. Yes I'm fully aware that the previous Viagra joke now looks good in comparison, however this is the "Bad Pun Collective" and I'll make as many as I damn well like.

I do enjoy giving presents though, much more than receiving. I'm one of those annoying people that says "don't know" when asked what they want, which I think is better anyway. I'd rather drop hints for weeks and be genuinely surprised at the result, rather than just spurt out a wishlist like it's a business transaction. Although this method doesn't really work when the guy at KFC is waiting to take your order.

To all out there in cyberland, I wish you all a safe and merry Christmas. It's a great time to pig out, hide from embarrassing drunk relations, and dress up your pets in red hats just because.