I know this place is supposed to be a bit more uplifting that the other place… but I need to get this out of me…

FUCKING BASTARD ELF.

WHERE THE HELL IS THE LITTLE CHRISTMASSY PRICK?

If you don’t want to read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein together by the fireplace whilst sharing a vintage bottle of Sauvignon Blanc in an abandoned château in the French countryside during a raging snowstorm, then please don’t tell me you’re “down for a good time”.

Start as I mean to go on…