Yes, that’s right. Grannypants-moistening blue-rinse botherer Daniel O’Donnell has his own greetings card range. Looking like an Eamon Holmes Lite™ and dressed by the finest tailors in Delmonte, the yawnsome yodeler wants to give you a ‘special birthday message’. Only problem is that when you open the card…

he drops to the decking and sings at you. Horrid. Truly horrid.

All I need to do now is find someone I hate enough to send it to.

I love Christmas. Everything’s brilliant at this time of year apart from two things:

1. Going into any shop after December 10th. I had the misfortune to be on Oxford Street last night and it was awash with dawdling idiots. Luckily I had sharpened my elbows in advance and had my iPod set to a suitably aggressive playlist.
2. The annual PC twats who insist on saying Season’s Greetings instead of Happy Christmas in their local council’s Christmas cards. Sod off, the lot of you. I have absolutely no problem with other religious celebrations throughout the year, and I’m sure that the vast majority of Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists and Scientologists have no problem with Christmas either. So what’s the problem? STOP SPOILING OUR FUN.

Even though I’ve received a staggering seven Christmas cards this year, I’ve only sent one. And that was to my gran, who to be fair won’t know who it’s from even though I wrote my name is large, finger-spaced letters. Even though they do look nice on the mantelpiece, I just find them all a bit old-fashioned and a waste of money (and trees).

With that in mind, I like this idea from Mother. Even though it positively reeks of a set-up, it’s a nice concept and the money is going to a good cause. Which makes it ubermegachristmassy.

And lastly, here’s a little film from the peoples here at Ogilvy One to warm your Christmas cockles and put a bit of extra magic in your mince pies. Which sounds dirty.

Happy Christmas.