reminicsing made me think about my worst Xmas.

It was in 2004, mum and grandad had died earlier in the year, stepdad and half sister and her family had gone off to Spain for the holidays. It was the kids turn to be at their dads, i'd moved into a really crappy council house and didn't have enough money to buy carpets for it. Got burgled and the kids presents stolen from under the tree a week before Xmas.

Christmas dinner was a microwave spag bol from Asda because it was all I could afford after trying to replace some presents following the burglary.

So totally alone, broke and not really full of any joy at all.

When I look back I feel lucky for my life now

I'd just got a new job in Oregon which I started in September. I didn't know anybody by Christmas, so on Christmas eve went out on my motorbike, bought some beer, a small frozen turkey, trimmings and stuff. On the way back from the supermarket some wanker ran a red light and smashed me and my motorbike up. I woke up in hospital, with no tv, or phone, just a picture of Jesus hanging over the bed. And every time a nurse came in and looked at my chart, they'd just tutt and bugger off without saying anything. No visitors for a week, after which, they sent me home, barely able to walk, in a taxi, that I had to pay for. Still, it could have been worse.

You'd have to try hard to top that one.

Did you consume the beer before getting on the bike?

No not a drop, but the policeman who interviewed me later, said when they got there it smelled like booze as my bottles of Heineken had smashed all over the place. Still on the bright side, because I had a broken arm and the other had an IV in it, I obviously couldn't bathe myself.

Sadly a friend of mine from uni managed it. I'll never forget hearing about it. His father died of a massive heart attack, in his arms, on Christmas day

And you & Clarence have been an item ever since. So cute.

Bed baths by a nurse on Christmas day - i'd have thought most guys idea of a perfect Xmas On a serious note - alls well that ends well and all that

All Xmases since the age of 5. Trapped in a house with two parents who had not seen each other since the last Xmas. Atmosphere like f***ing stew.

Ruining Boxing Day dinner because of drink and dubious substance overload that morning, collapse ensued and I split my head open on the kitchen tiles. Driven to hospital by someone who could barely open both eyes at once. Dinner burned to a cinder.

First Xmas in Canada, having been here about 2 weeks. Sat in a rooming house in Scarborough surrounded by illegal Mexicans who had been on the drink for days. Snow up past my knees outside.

Still, no-one died. Bah humbug.

Well this is quite the " get your spirits up and get you in the mood of xmas thread "

My worst was when i never got the ******* grifter bike I was hoping for

and now you're in Guelph....it just keeps getting worse dunnit ?

And it's not even Xmas yet, who knows what depths things can sink to.

Then wife and kids were in Europe as usual. I was stuck in Canada due to work. It must have been Christmas Eve that I, and the recently arrived illegal immigrant brother, went to Amrit's party. Brother expecting great things from a woman met in the pub the week before (nothing happened then because we were turfed after he glassed the man who went to Queen's). Woman walks in with man, "****, not getting laid, might as well get pissed" says brother and starts on joints, glue and beer. Man turns out to be just driving her to the party. I end up driving brother and woman to her place (Vic Park and Shepherd, she'd survived there for years, seeing that I'd have run a mile). I went home, watched the Godfather, several years too late.

First thing in the morning the phone rings. Chuckling brother, "Gave a good account of meself I did, pissed to the point where you can get it up but you can't" <here I edit for the delicate of ear> "anyway, can you take me to hospital?" Why not, what else am I doing? It seems the brother hadn't given quite that good account of himself because the woman, to whom he has now been married for, maybe, seventeen years, woke him up by breaking a beer bottle across his face. We get out of St. Mike's and it's lunchtime, we think of the need to make Christmas dinner, we've some sort of poultry but no potatoes. Everything's shut except Chinatown so off we go to Dundas and Spadina. And that's when we realise that the Chinese don't eat potatoes.

Worst ever? On balance probably not but the only thing Christmassy about it was that someone in the family got hurt.

Worked till 5pm, waited over 2 hours for then fiance to collect me from work to go to his parents for xmas dinner. Couldn't get home otherwise as no transport in London, no taxis available and a long walk from Chelsea to Belsize Park. Eventually arrived at his parents for xmas dinner of leftovers as they had eaten earlier and gone out. Much, much, later discovered that the meal had been cooked by the "other woman".

Was that a chopper, only shit?