I've bought seven (7) magazines, all of which are 'bumper' issues and I'm going to wade through them with a bottle of wine. I say one bottle, let's see how we go. I've a feeling I'm going to regret this. EDIT: I did regret it, and ended up splitting these posts up as I was too drunk to do it all in one go by the end.

Starting with: Chat Festive Special

The cover doesn't look that promising really, does it? Sexy Santa might be worthwhile, but otherwise this might be a bit too *sad-face* for our purposes.

Ah yes – the first story is about some poor women whose daughter was shot and killed at a party, and so has literally NOTHING funny about it. It does warn you about this though, with a yellow 'Warning' sign, displaying the 'Shock Factor'. 

Bit weird that isn't it? When you think? 

Moving on.

Next up we've got a women with no arms who does stuff with her feet, which isn't so much 'amazing' and more 'what else is she going to do?', and after that a double spread of Christmas accidents. Apparently: 

The Royal Society for the Prevention of Accidents says a load of people end up in A&E with broken arms every year, simply from pulling a Christmas Cracker"

You'd think RoSPA would be slightly more accurate than 'a load' wouldn't you, so I checked, and it's four. Four people every year break their arms pulling a Christmas Cracker. Fuckwits.

Next a rape story, followed by some cute animals in Santa outfits. Some fat people who've lost weight – by fat I mean HUGE, obviously – then something cute – in this case quintuplets – then some facts, then a terrible death.  It's basically a more harrowing, paper version of The One Show. 

A page of signs to show you've gone too far with the festive spirit includes this beauty:

"Instead of a family game of charades, you act out last year's Christmas Eastenders – playing all the characters yourself"

which, if you are doing, I'd suggest too much 'festive spirit' isn't the issue, but rather too little 'getting out'.

This dude married his best mate's daughter (20 years younger than him), who he'd known since she was 3. Oddly her Dad wasn't too happy about it at the time. "I only started fancying you recently!" said Tony, with really the only sentence he can possibly say without getting his house burned down.

Next another rape story, this one followed by a story about a guy giving 'festive hugs' to strangers. That's how it starts you know. Next thing you're running marathons, portering late night at hospitals and presenting 'Top of The Pops'.

Ah here we are, as promised, the Sexy Santa. Nikki Lord, 42, from Manchester cleans strangers houses dressed in a 'sexy outfit', then strips off and scrubs your bath for you. Only looking, no touching. £100. Probably a good indication of how , I'm so tired nowadays all I can think of when I hear that is 'How is her cleaning?'.

So there you go – not too exciting really Chat: 5/10, must try harder. My next review will involve a photo of a swollen scrotum, which I'm pretty sure will bring the quality RIGHT BACK ON TRACK.

Weird isn’t it? You’d think that, as a spirit free to roam the vast world of the afterlife, able to appear anywhere you wish at will, sharing the heavens with all the great thinkers of history, that you’d have something better to do than sit someone’s Geography exam. But no.

Either that, or he’s making it all up, lying through his teeth and using a team of researchers coupled with a talent for cold reading to dupe desperate people into believing he’s talking to their dead relatives, and getting paid handsomely in the process. But that can’t be true can it?

I bet you’re single though.

Unfortunately, it’s when the dogs sleeping that I turn into one. He fucking hates it.

I’m not going to ask where you keep your Toblerones.