Saturday: Christmas is an odd time for journalists, as people stop reading the paper to concentrate on sleeping in front of The Great Escape and having one too many sherries. But we lowly reporters are still under intense pressure to deliver up-to-the-minute news, regardless of who is reading. Christmas is filled with strange photo shoots of serious men dressed as elves, stories about snow and an avalanche of terrible press releases. Rain.
Sunday: The most desperate I’ve received so far boldly announces that Santa will get ill and children will not be getting any presents. Aside from causing mass hysteria about Christmas being cancelled, the author of the email seems to have got carried away, to the point where Santa was in real danger of being struck down by an illness which is particularly common for reindeer herders. Showers.
Next week: Putting aside the surreal five -step plan laid out for Santa to avoid getting this deadly illness, the sender of the email, apparently someone from a serious medical journal, seems to have missed the target audience. Now I haven’t done a study of any kind, but I’d wager there are precious few people in this part of London who have even seen a reindeer, let alone decided that herding them was their chosen career. Windy.
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