Santa at 35 degrees south

Christmas in Russell, sad to say, was much like any other day, with the notable exception of the meat pack that my flatmate cooked up for us to celebrate J.C.'s birth. Yes, it rained. All day. After opening my gifts, which Santa was so kind to mail to me this year for $40, we settled into a carnivore's carnival of protein--lamb, pork, and beef. Prior to the festivities on the porch, Mass was packed at 11:30am, a full complement of 40 people packed together in Russell's tiny Catholic church. St. Peter's in Rome--eat your heart out. I had slacks and a light sweater on and was the most dressed up out of the whole lot. If only I owned flip-flops, I would've been less conspicuous. Battling a headache from Kiwi beer the night before, I returned to 4 Little Queen Street for another reminder of how great Santa Claus really is.



My flatmate received that shirt for doing something noble, though I can't remember what. He came home recently and said, "look at this cool shirt. Thai silk." He was serious. "Interesting," was all I could muster without asking him which crime family he belonged to. If they don't have an English mafia in New Zealand, perhaps they do now. Ignore the elf grabbing ass. Suffice it to say, that was not my first glass of wine. Nor was it my last. What can I say? I'm entirely comfortable being asexual here in Russell. You really don't have much of a choice.

Juan Valdez smoking a Cuban.

See what $40 in postage brings for Christmas? Lots of thin things.

We decorated on Christmas with a Saddam Hussein replica Santa.

Ah, an L.A. Times Sunday Crossword book. Life is good. Look up "Dork" in the dictionary and it's this picture.

Is that an elf hat or am I the new court jester? I can juggle, you know.

This one is titled "Irony." I thought I'd have my English flatmate hold up my new "How much do you know about the American Revolution?" quiz book. He didn't know much. Perhaps that's why they lost in the first place.

Quizzical look. Cologne inside the box. What is my family trying to tell me from half a world away?

Santa still kicks butt even when you least expect him to. Look at that bounty!

Doing my best Rudolf imitation, aided, of course, with Speight's, The Pride of the South.

There's just nothing like waking up with a hangover headache and diving right back into the abyss. It's called 'alcoholism,' and it's Russell's favorite disease.

Christmas morning. I'm so excited. All the little, tiny, hobbitt gifts under my little, tiny hobbitt tree. I would go wake my parents up, but they'd probably be pretty perturbed seeing as how Mom and Dad upstairs barely know me.

My colleague, Brooke, piggy-backed me for a good 50 yards on Christmas Eve. I think that's one of the events in those Scottish Games they have. That and telephone pole tossing. Wait, she's Cornish, not Scottish. Maybe she should move.

Hanpus (Ahn-poos), the Swedish cook, and the two Czech girls at The Pub, Christmas Eve. Those smiles say, "he's so large, we have no choice." And large, he is. Must be the Viking lineage.

Fiona, the new Taiwanese "dishy," or dishwasher, at zee Gables. Bonnie's friend. She doesn't normally drink, so what do we do? We bought her a shot of tequila and jaeger and after smelling it, she downed it and muttered, "sweet." No effect on any of the 100lbs covering her bones. She's a machine. Her English vocabulary now includes "you" "go" "away" and "jaeger bomb."

Fiona meets the West!

Zee French chef at Zee Gables--the one, the only, the indomitable Bernard.

And Megan, on the left.

That's the worst looking face since Texas Chainsaw Massacre hit the screens.

In fact, I think that's the exact face they borrowed for the film.

This was going to be CT's "I'm so vain, but I'm bored" solo shot. Brooke had to stick her Cornish beak in.

Christmas Eve, The Pub, Russell, 2007. Feel the spirit.

Oh yeah. I can almost hear Santa's sleigh bells from here.

Mark at his inebriated best, doing, you know, nonsensical Mark things while trying to grope every girl that walks by. Drunk Mark should be a movie.

"Warp speed, Captain Picard?"

I've offered English lessons to both of them. Back at my place. You know, to improve the girls' chances in an increasingly dynamic marketplace.