RICHARD ORD: ‘Tis the season to fall for the cheapskate’s Christmas card scam

I just don’t believe them. They’re lazy, but have found a great ruse to get out of the pain of writing Christmas cards and still come up smelling of roses. (Yes, I’m jealous!)

As such, I take the opposite tack. This year I’ve contacted all the main charities to let them know that, rather than donating cash, I am buying friends and relatives expensive Christmas cards instead.

So if you receive a card from me, you can take comfort in knowing that Save the Children is down about £3.50 on the year.

Of course, it isn’t truly Christmas until, according to a radio advert I heard, you’ve had a Greggs festive bake!

Stuff turkey with all the trimmings, this year I’ll be dishing out the crumb-topped pastry containing chicken, stuffing and bacon, smothered in a creamy sage and cranberry sauce, to the family. (There’s a vegan version too. Not sure what’s in that. Soylent Green, I’ll wager).

Should anyone have the temerity to complain, I’ll replay the advert to them. Not happy? Write to your local commercial radio station.

People forget the true calling card of Christmas, and it’s certainly not a lip-burning slice of Christmas-themed sludge (no matter how good it tastes). It’s Santa, driving a 13 tonne juggernaut festooned in fairy lights up your street. ‘Holidays are coming, holidays are coming…’ Except they’re not. Being at the cutting edge of journalism, where news never sleeps, we have no holidays here. What little time I have away from producing the words that fill your favourite news supply medium, I spend working on my Covid Christmas inventions. I’m particularly proud of the socially-distanced cracker. It looks like a normal cracker, except it’s two metres long! And instead of making a bang when you pull it open, it lets out a loud sneeze or stifled cough. Both are far more likely to make you jump than a loud bang. As one wag wrote, people cover up their coughs in much the same way as the infected hide bite marks in zombie films.

Anyway, dear reader, have a great Christmas and spare a thought for us newshounds dining on festive bakes washed down with Coca-Cola to deliver the words that brighten your day. And be grateful you didn’t get a card from me.