When you’re feeling down and the world’s a dump,
When you’re always whingeing and taking the hump;
Don’t be so glum and down in the lip,
Go get yourself a Christmas chip.
If the horse you bet has come in last,
If your best days lie in the distant past;
If your grip on reality’s starting to slip,
Get wired into a Christmas chip.
If you’ve been told to vape and bin the fegs,
When they keep on taking down your flegs;
Do the right thing and take this tip:
Stick your face in a Christmas chip.
If a united Ireland seems far off,
And you’re worried about a persistent cough;
When your last good sleep was only a blip,
Remember there’s always a Christmas chip.
When you’ve sleet and rain instead of snow,
And the chill north wind begins to blow;
If your funds are depleting at a worrying clip,
Just wind your chops round a Christmas chip.
If your garden snowman’s turned to slush,
If you’re drinking Buckfast instead of Bush;
Throw back your shoulders and get a grip,
And treat yourself to a Christmas chip.
For the festive fare can begin to grate,
With the same old grub on the same old plate;
Pigs in blankets and turkey breast,
Can leave you bored and badly stressed.
Savoury stuffing, ham and gravy,
Can make the straightest hair turn wavy;
And that dollop of mash there on the side,
Can make you want to run and hide.
Because gifts are expensive and drink is a curse,
But ignoring Christmas is so much worse;
And Home Alone 6 soon loses its gloss,
When you stare at a puddle of cranberry sauce.
But now the book has been rewritten,
And a new food fad has left us smitten;
No longer must we follow rules,
Like a pack of paper-hatted fools.
Picture this scene if you will,
A festive treat, a gastro-thrill;
The recipe couldn’t be any easier,
The resultant grin could be no cheesier.
A pile of chips is always a winner,
But then throw on top your Yuletide dinner;
Until it’s the size of a mini-skip,
And – hey, presto! – there’s your Christmas chip.
But if you can’t be bothered cooking,
If it’s something quick you’re looking,
Put on your coat, cuz it might be nippy,
Then head down to your local chippy.
And forget the fish and pastie baps,
The lamb kebabs and chicken wraps;
Ignore the burgers and goujons with dip,
For everyone’s buying a Christmas chip.
It’s eaten for lunch, it’s eaten for dinner,
Who cares if you don’t get any thinner?
It’s eaten at night when the pubs have shut,
Who needs McDonald’s or Pizza Hut?
It’ll make your worries run a mile,
It’ll make Jim Allister crack a smile;
It can solve your worries at the double,
Get Sinn Féin employees out of trouble.
Wherever human beings are found,
Its many powers are well-renowned;
It’s been known to make the DUP
Refuse to meet with the LCC.
It can put a smile on the saddest face,
Help Jamie Bryson win a case;
Friends are made from perfect strangers,
Three points can be won for Rangers.
It can soften a big dog’s vicious bark,
It can build a stadium at Casement Park;
All your wildest dreams will be granted.
The Orange Order will walk where they’re wanted.
Darkness suddenly turns into light,
The PSNI will get something right;
The ozone layer will stop getting smaller,
BBC phone-ins will get a new caller.
So as you’re putting up your Christmas tree,
And the house is warm and full of glee,
As you get prepared for a shopping trip,
Be thankful for the Christmas chip.
For balls can crack and lights can fuse,
And you can say something stupid while on the booze;
You might be in pain from your arthritic hip,
But you’ll always have your Christmas chip.
So raise a glass of wine or beer
And join in with the festive cheer;
Let’s toast our health and then let rip,
It’s the season of the Christmas chip.
Stand beside the big log fire,
And listen to that festive choir,
May a hundred blessings your way skip,
With a thousand calories from your Christmas chip.
Tip of the hat to Flann O’Brien.
