It’s Mr Fogg’s birthday and what do you get the man who already has everything he needs?

Well, a Route 66 T shirt of course ready for his road trip later this year.

Another year older, but still age 12 at heart….

Picture the scene, 4 sozzled “hadults”, seeing in the New Year with the most spectacular “crap” fireworks you have ever seen.

We were introduced to crap indoor fireworks by the Finks a few years ago and boy are they terrible, in a uber uncool way. Besides the pellet that expands to resemble a bad dog poo, there is puff the magic dragon which is a tiny stick that gives out smoke rings, but the party piece has to be the potato mounted flare that lasts for all of 3 seconds.

This is the new cool, forget the expense of sparklers and rockets, you need a £10 pack of crap indpor fireworks (just keep all doors and windows open to get rid of the smoke).

Yey 2013, a wonderful end to the year spent with the Caddies at the “local” in monkey suits and cocktail dresses, before coming back for a fun evening of drink chat and first footing.

Here’s wishing you all a fantastic New Year.

It’s Gawn, thank goodness. Turkey sandwiches, Turkey curry, Turkey soup. Turkey cheese. You name it we’ve Turkey’d it. Thank goodness it’s only once a year because we’ve had it for the last 6 days!

Ah roll on “Non” Turkey meals for the next 360 days, well until next Christmas.

Next stop, New Year and the James Bond DJ.

We now have a local Yo! Sushi, woo hoo. It’s about time one of these arrived, since the nearest one was previously over 90 miles away.

An afternoon then of food, food and more food, and we still have half a turkey to consume (oh boy).

What do you do tween Chrimbo n New Year?

That’s right drive in the pouring rain to Winking Willies in Scarborough for some Fush n Chups. It’s gotta beat another day of turkey (since there is sufficient to last to March).

A nice freezing cold walk round then back home to the warmth.

Christmas Day may be over but Mrs Claws is up and about and having fun.

When not banging her drum (badly) she can be found with a pillow stuffed up my Santa suit to pretend she is the big man himself.

Red Nose not needed Rudolph, Mrs Claws nose is already glowing.

How to entertain an hadult, give her a desktop drum set to play with and make some noise.

5am saw me outta bed, setting the fire and readying the Buck’s Fizz for Mrs Fogg to awaken at 6.30am.

A fun hour spent unwrapping and making a mess, oh and opening prezzies.

Turkey all preppd, fart machine Brussels all done, now we chill before the feast.

A very Merry Christmas to you, one and all.

Mr & Mrs Fogg.

Ah Christmas Eve. the night before the big day. This year I found the perfect pre Christmas gift for Mr Fogg and could not resist getting him to open it.

Chippendales stand back. I have my very own sexy Christmas sparkler.

Happy Christmas Eve everyone.

To top it off Mr Fogg has just bought me Fifty Sheds of Grey. A bestseller. And nope, it’s not a typo.