Davina: I've had a Christmas card from my boyfriend Vince. It would seem that he's taken a group of underprivileged children to visit Santa in Lapland, which is why he can't be with me on December the twenty fifth this year. He knows I'll be disappointed but says if I "could just see the grateful smiles on the children's tear-stained faces", I'd understand. And in the words of former seventies pop star and one-time Irish presidential candidate Dana, he says it's going to be a "cold, cold Christmas" without me. Turd! Apparently, there's been a cock-up with the room booking at the Lapland Hilton, so he's had to move into a small igloo just south of the Arctic Circle with one of Santa's helpers, whose name is Sharon. She's sixteen, surprisingly grown-up for her age and it's her job to stuff the turkeys in the Father Christmas canteen. Vince says he'll be staying on for a bit to help her with her work. I think I know what he'll be stuffing this Christmas. When he gets back, I'm going to remove his giblets, replace them with sage and onion and then put him in the oven at one hundred and seventy five degrees Celsius for twenty minutes per pound and twenty minutes over. I wish the drugs would work. I really do...
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