Ever since I was 21 and found out Father Christmas wasn’t real, Christmas just hasn’t been the same. Instead of lying in bed, dreaming what the fat bastard will have brought me, I now lie in bed having alcohol-induced nightmares about him staring through my bedroom window, gently stroking his bollocks and shoving Rudolph’s antlers up his gaping arsehole while I twitch and sweat in a fragmented sleep.

Knowing that there’s no overweight, heavily-bearded old man wearing a babygrow flying around the sky in a massive sled that’s pulled by a group of reindeers, is really disheartening isn’t it? Your life shatters right before your eyes and you kinda wonder why your parents were happy for you to sit on a stranger’s knee (the stranger dressed up as Father Christmas) when you were younger when they fully well knew he wasn’t the real Father Christmas, and that he’s never been real in the first place. It’s real shit. But mostly everything is now. Life just hasn’t been the same. And those crusts of humanity that have already trimmed up when Christmas is still more than 5 weeks away really need to wise up and stop being such stupid cunts.

So, yeah, I think I’ve made it pretty clear that I now hate Christmas and I see it as just another reason to get fucked up instead of basking in the warmth of cheery family visits. And it seems that this guy, Alan Sailer, has similar ideals to me. He likes to ruin kids’ lives by blowing up toys using firecrackers and taking photos of the gloriously macabre act – resulting in photos you can show younger relatives to make their Christmas really shit and to turn them into (barely) functioning alcoholics, too.

Enjoy, compadres. I’m off to swill some Jack around my gums.

And here’s a photo of an exploding Christmas ornament that’ll give you a hard-on.

You can check out more of the photos here.

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