I own so much cheese right now. There must be 12 pounds in the house. And the flesh of four sorts of mammals and uncountable forms of sea life. I hope the kiddies like it: "why are you crying, child? Port and stilton is a classic!!" Why do people crap on British cooking all year and then crave it at Christmas? Bad upbringing. Bring me my punch pot! Still a few presents to wrap but there's been plenty of wrapping done already. Christmas service and tortiere tonight, screaming pre-schoolers destroying the house tomorrow. What care I? I have Brussel spouts and two sorts of eastern Ontario sheeps' milk cheeses. "Why are you crying, child? That sheep's cheese cost more than your presents!! Enjoy what you are given." That's the true message of Christmas.

• Listening to the story about the shortwave listening kid in the 1970s and 80s was just eerie in terms of personal nerd doppelganger.
I love Joe Carter's voice.
• I can't believe that I read something by Ezra Levant that didn't lose me in the first paragraph. Merry Christmas is what I say.
• Who ever said Canadian politics and political reporting were utterly dull?
• The real Scrooge.
• Freakish Santa of the late 1800s.

OK, bye. Time for sausage rolls and unconventionally timed consumption of alcohol.