Are you lonesome tonight? Are restrictions too tight? Is the lockdown just driving you mad? Have you stuffed yourself full? Bored right out of your skull? Have you lost whatever grip that you had? Don’t worry. You’re not alone.

You know what it’s like. It’s Christmas, you’re a bit drunk, you’ve had buggered organs for nine months, and you start getting sentimental about one of the best friendships you’ve ever had and wondering how much time you have left …

So, it seems we’re pretty fucked, right? Well, at least we’ll always have Christmas to enjoy, yeah? I guess it depends if your definition of enjoyment includes scrabbling in a ditch for road kill and rotting berries to make your dinner with.

Look, we know that we’ve been away for a few months, but we’ve got a REALLY good excuse and, while we are loathe to play the organ failure card, we do have to say: ORGAN FAILURE. Unexpected, moderately inconvenient, dropped-out-of-the-sky organ failure.

After a whole year of being wound up, stressed out, and pissed off by colleagues who thwart your sanity (especially that git who nicks your stapler), how better to relieve the tension than by getting chaotically drunk with the bastards?