Cop This Xmas Day Drinking Game That’ll Get You Through The Arvo Sozzled

For some it’s a joyful, relaxing day full of cheer and good will. For others, it’s an unmitigated shitfight that must be fiercely contested as losing is simply not a viable option.

And lo, the booze it flows quite freely on this most festive of days. But as we all know, anything without structure is prone to collapse.

So what better way to sail through the 25th day of December than by adhering to a largely ridiculous, comedically written set of rules detailing precisely when one should slam that biz.

Ladies, gents, gender-neutral pronouns, I present to you your wholly official, exceedingly serious, very important 2016 CHRISTMAS DAY DRINKING GAME.

Because who doesn’t love a good forced sip.

– Any adult male over the age of 50 attempts to ride the little tacker’s brand new hoverboard that they got for Chrimbo. This’ll happen at around 3-4’o clock in the arvo, so you’ve got time to prepare. As soon as you hear a slightly slurred “Alright, give us a go” pick up the phone, dial two zeroes, drink, and get ready to dial a third.

– Someone in the room, quite frankly anybody, has to make the “polite present face” when copping some bullshit they very clearly hate. This includes you yourself as well. The key to recognising a gift face is to know when it’s happening. After all, you might never look a gift horse in the mouth, but you can certainly smile through clenched teeth at it.

– Any time Mum, so full to the gills on the brekky champas and the good chardonnay that she’s practically floating, attempts to hijack the AUX cord and put on Michael Fucking Bublé‘s Christmas album, swig one down and then distract her with old photos of you as a kid – a tried-and-true distraction method that buys at least 30-40 minutes of time – and return to sipping and peacefully listening to Mariah Carey‘s Crimmus album. It’s what the good lord intended this day be for; the day his beautiful muscular bastard son was born. Majestic.

SO BEAUTIFUL.

– Alternatively, if you’re in a particularly evil mood and up for a little social experiment, you can take a page out of comedian John Mulaney‘s book. Pick a song – any song, preferably Chrimpus-themed but I’m not picky. For the purposes of this example, let’s say the Brian Setzer Orchestra rendition of ‘Jingle Bell Rock.’

Objectively? Very good song. Which is gonna make this even more interesting. At some point during the day when everyone’s busy with meal prep or enduring a conversation with a relative they fucking hate, take control of the stereo and put the song on. But don’t just put it on once. Put it on a bunch of times in a row. Make a playlist that contains nothing but the song, repeated, 20-odd times in a row. Then find a corner and watch it all go down. Take one sip – a sly, knowing sip – each time the song starts again.

People won’t cotton on to it right away. In fact, it’ll take a little while. But they will. And it’ll be glorious. Exhibit A:

– You knew this one was coming: Take a drink, a very, very, very, very big drink, any time that one fucked relative that everyone has says something vaguely racist. Neck the whole dang bottle if it’s overtly racist. Then deal with them by asking them to show their work. It’s easier than arguing, and it’s fun to watch people trip over hurdles.

– A group challenge one: Run a pool with the rest of your family on the time that one uncle/aunt/cousin who is always late or always bails early does exactly that. Diving time periods up into half hours, and the winner gets to crack open the good bubbly and swig from the bottle, while the relative-in-question looks on totally in the dark about what’s just went down. It Crammus, bithc.

– Another group challenge: When the time for the exchange of gifts occurs, try and spot the obvious gift cards. You then predict where that gift card is from. Get it right? You get to dish out a drink to someone. Get it wrong? Shame upon your soul forever. Also, you drink. If someone unwraps a Dan Murphy’s card, everyone pounds the rest of their drink down. Here’s to feeling good all the time.

 

– When you inevitably cop the Tatts Pack from dear old Uncle Stingy, take a sip of victory when you actually win something whilst proudly declaring where he can stick his “if you win we split it 50/50″ proposal, forever denying him that $2 he so desperately covets. Fuck to you, Uncle. Fuck to you.

– As the sun sets in the evening and the main tasks for the day are long completed, have a good old fashioned slug of booze when Dad gets so dang sozzled that he reefs out the sparkly novelty New Year’s bowler hat and begins gloriously performing air piano along to a Ray Charles ditty. Then, as you chortle at your old man’s expense, listen as the devil-on-the-shoulder tells you that you’re staring into a window of your future. And then drink again. Because it’ll happen to yoooooouuuuuuuuu.

– And finally, when someone waddles out of the kitchen and begins to offer around pudding, which you begrudgingly agree to even though you’re already so full you’ve lost feeling in your feet, drink. Because at that point, fuck it. If you’re gonna stuff yourself that much, you might as well commit and explode.

– Drink whenever anyone does anything, says something, breathes, moves, or any event of any kind occurs in any part of your immediate vicinity. Just drink. Keep drinking. All day long. Because sometimes it’s the only way to get through the blessed/cursed Chrittus Day.

I mean, y’know, drink responsibly and all that. But still, slam that biz down.

Enjoy the day, my dear friends! And brace for the dreaded Boxing Day hangover.

Or ham-over, if you will.