[sic] Magazine

Misers to spend record amounts of jack shit this Christmas

UK misers are gearing up for their most cautious Christmas since records began – some two thousand years ago – and see the prolonged fiscal terror wrought by idiot bankers as the perfect excuse for a totally justifiable lack of generosity.

In Devon & Cornwall tight-wads expect to spend an average of just £2.40 on presents, with this rising to £3.60 as one moves further north, and finally a totally irresponsible £4.20 north of the border, which can’t be right can it?

Better than an X Box

Children of misers can expect an especially tough festive period during which they will learn important lessons, such as; ‘never to take anything for granted you ungrateful little shits and that you lot today don’t know you’re born. And that if you think you’re hard done by – how do you think it feels to wake up to a solitary copy of the Grange Hill annual which was out-of-date by two years and that the previous owner had spunked over the picture of Fay Lucas. Imagine how that feels, especially when that twat Gary Hayes is riding a new racing bike because his Dad earns more money than yours. But don’t worry, you’re going to see to it later that he gets a good kicking – a Boxing Day he’ll remember for all the wrong reasons, but mainly due to the abysmal staffing levels in A & E.’ All I’m trying to say is: Look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves.

Authentic Santa

John Ashworth, a stingy bastard from Redditch, is taking radical steps to rein in spending this year. As he put it: ‘I’ve taken to writing Merry Xmas on cards instead of Merry Christmas, not just to piss religious people off, but also to save on ink. The cards themselves I’ve made out of an old copy of the Radio Times I found on the tip. See that picture of Gary Wilmot as Santa Claus – I’ve just tippexed around it so that it looks like a beard. ‘

Meanwhile as Britain braced itself for a Siberian chill, tight-arses confirmed that the heating won’t be going on until the mercury drops to at least ten below and that, instead, you can go and get your jumper from the bedroom you lazy cow. They also said: ‘I don’t slog my guts out from nine to five so that you can sit there in a single layer and to bear in mind just exactly who it is that actually pays the fucking bills’