Bugle 4054 – FUChristmas

The Bugle, audio newspaper for a visual world.

Hello buglers and welcome to issue 4054 of the Bugle, the world's primary and leading and indeed only audio newspaper for a visual world for the week beginning Monday, the 25th of December, which means

it's Bugle Christmas special time, and what a collection of gifts we have for you today.

Firstly, what's in this package?

Yes, it's me, Andy Zoltzman, and joining me here in London, let's see who's in this one.

It's Alice Fraser.

Hello, Andy.

Hello, hello, Alice.

How are you?

Well, I'd say that.

I've been seeing you every night at at my Soho show in a range of different guises, which has been

fun.

It's been a lot of fun.

I've enjoyed the shit out of it, Andy.

Oh, good, good.

And most of the audiences have, I think, as well.

More on this later.

And coming to us live from Los Angeles.

It's the International Fugitive of the Year 2017.

Catch her if you can, Interpol.

You've got nothing on her.

It's the sister who's being missed a lot in my house in London.

The scribbling sibling, the fount of all wisdom, Helen Zaltzman.

Help, coming, please, help!

Help!

Can you give us a hand?

Hello, Andy.

Could I have a glass of water?

I've been in that box for a lot of weeks.

I'll email you one.

How have your travels been, Helen?

Oh, very nice, Andy.

Very nice.

I'm in the USA at the moment.

Nothing happening here.

Very peaceful place.

How was South America?

Oh, it's delightful.

The internet didn't work that much, so I had no idea what was happening in the rest of the world.

It was a real tonic to the psyche.

And also, I ate piranha ribs.

Piranha ribs?

Yes.

The actual bones of the piranha, or the flesh around the bones?

The flesh around the bones of a giant piranha.

Was it alive?

They were cooked.

Oh, Right, okay.

It was not an alive.

It was non-consensually dead and cooked.

Right, it wasn't kill or be killed swimming across the Amazon.

I didn't, like, punch it in the throat and then eat its ribs in a kind of primal display of superiority.

But that was strongly implied.

Is that how you disarm a piranha?

Is that punching it in the throat?

Because presumably you did all the research with this before going to South America where piranhas live on every street corner.

Yeah.

I

would not wholeheartedly recommend it as an approach to buglers, but maybe if you can put a muzzle on the piranha, you can disarm them whatever way you want.

Right.

It's just getting the muzzle on is a challenge.

Okay.

FYI.

Thank you, F.

Yeah.

And then, of course, muzzle tov is the greeting after.

Oh, hello.

So this is Bugle 4054 for the week beginning, as I said, Monday the 25th of December.

Of course, some significant anniversaries.

The birthdays, famously, of Jesus Christ and struggling England opening batsman Alastair Cook.

And statistics show, coincidentally, that faith in both men in England is at an all-time low.

In the year 336 was the first recorded celebration of Christmas in Rome when Pope Julius I got drunk, pulled up a conifer tree in the Vatican Garden, put it in his living room, hid behind it as a prank, told his cardinals that God had turned him into a tree as a miracle, covered his pet snake Alfonso in gold-painted bearskin body sock as a treat.

Alphonse climbed into the tree in terror, hence tinsel.

Don't ask where baubles come from.

Julius then ate far too much food and fell asleep in front of the telly.

And that was the first ever Christmas.

On the 25th of December, it's not just Christmas, of course.

There are other days as well.

In India, it is Good Governance Day.

That is one day of the year in which India gives a shit about good governance.

It was established in 2014, arguably late.

Is it working?

I'm not sure.

Judging from what Anuvab has been telling us over the course of his career as a bugle correspondent, no, no,

it is not working.

And it's good of them to bury it on a day when the rest of the world isn't paying attention because it's stuffing its face with food.

Well, it's low pressure, isn't it?

Yes.

And also, this is the feast day of Saint Anastasia of Sirmium, the Christian saint who died on the 25th of December 304.

So her feast day is the 25th of December.

That is a shit day to have your feast day as a saint.

Talk about being overshadowed by your boss.

That is bad move, Anastasia.

Should have held on at least one day.

As always, the section of the Buell is going straight in the bin.

Not the bin this week.

It's going straight in the Christmas stocking.

In the stocking this week.

Was the other interchangeable to you?

Well,

I once got...

a bin in my Christmas stocking.

I got a wicker frog-shaped bin because our grandmother had made us such big Christmas stockings, our mum had to fill them with things like inflated balloons just so they didn't seem empty.

And one year I got a bin.

What do you mean our mother had to fill them, Helen?

Surely that was Santa Claus himself.

She works for him part-time.

All right.

Okay.

Oh, that's good.

That's good.

We have this dispute every year

in my family that my wife fervently believes from a more Orthodox Christian tradition that the entire stocking is given by Santa Claus for hell no.

divorce uh well of course uh you and me Helen growing up in the Judeo-Christian tradition one present from Santa Claus and the rest from the local rabbi um

uh the section well it is as discussed the Christianico pagan festival of Christmas renowned for its family bonding rapacious commercialism indoor forestry easily smashable decorations uneaten cake and shouting children now obviously all buglers we know that you will be down on your bendy knees thanking Jupiter for giving you his only son Santa Claus to save you from the sin of having enough money for anything in January.

But what about those non-believers who like to jump on the Christmas bandwagon and get some free swag from you lot anyway?

Well, we give here, well, the section in the stocking this week, last minute Christmas gifts.

Things to go out and emergency buy when you realize that you need an extra present.

We look at pogo socks.

Do you need to find space to put away all those unwanted Christmas gifts on the top of tall wardrobes or in a high-up cupboard or on the top of some high shelves, then the Boingtech Pogo Socks could be just what you need.

Using technology perfected on the Pogo stick, the Pogo Socks Insock Springers can boing you up to nine feet in the air without the inconvenience of having to pick up a stick.

Not recommended for use in low-ceilinged houses, not verified for use by the NBA or the IAAF.

Also, we look at the Wireless 3D wooden log.

Are you cold?

Then setting fire to a wooden log could be just what you need this winter.

This all-new wireless, three-dimensional genuine wood wooden log burns when on fire to produce warming winter warmth for all the family.

Wi-Fi compatible.

So that section in the bin.

Top story this week, Bugle 2017 Awards.

My award for the icon of 2017 is...

Hang on, hang on, hang on.

Let's see if we can guess.

Because there's been a lot of significant global figures around the world who've brought a lot of happiness, brought a lot of unhappiness to this planet.

Is it Roger Federer, Helen?

And if not, you've got it wrong.

It's not the Fed.

Duff.

Chris, leave your football shit at home.

Who do you reckon it is?

My suggestion for Icon of the Year would be Australian Senator Barnaby Joyce, who came out with a very Australian statement in response to gay marriage about crocodiles.

Incorrect.

What was that statement?

He said,

everyone's entitled entitled to their sexual proclivities.

Let a thousand blossoms bloom as far as I'm concerned with a sort of increasing panic.

And then he just turned on a dime and said, but I'm not spending any more time on it because every three months in far north Queensland a man gets torn to pieces by a crocodile.

What, because of the gays?

No, just because of the crocodiles.

He wanted to get off the gays as quickly as possible.

So he wasn't blaming the gays for the crocodiles eating people.

He just didn't like talking about feelings.

So he went straight to crocodiles.

Helen, who then is your icon of 2017?

My icon of 2017 is a man in China called Kai.

He's 28.

He was recently fined 1,000 yen

for repainting traffic lines because he said he was very frustrated about his daily bus journey to work.

He said

it's a three-lane situation, middle lane straight ahead, side lanes off to the sides.

He said, I saw the straight lane was always packed with cars, while the lane that turns left has a lot of space.

So I thought changing the signs would make my commute smoother.

So he just got there on the road, painted another arrow in the left lane so you can go forward.

And the reason why he's my icon of 2017 is he saw that something which had been established did not fit in with his version of the world, and so he changed it to his own ends.

Isn't that just what Donald Trump is doing, Helen?

And yet you seem to be complaining about him.

That's why Kai is the 2017 icon.

Oh, I see, right.

So it's like the Time magazine person of the year.

It's not necessarily someone who's been good for the planet.

So you're saying Kai is basically responsible for everything that's gone wrong in the Middle East.

Sure.

I mean, if you painted lines all over that, then maybe people were getting into each other's borders.

Maybe that's the problem with the roadmap for peace.

It's not the roadmap that's the problem.

It's the signs.

Signs on the road.

I just want, yeah, a nice big sign that says terrorists this way and it just takes them straight down a chute.

That is the problem with terrorists though.

They don't always obey simple instructions.

So if they can't really deal with the please don't kill everyone rule, then road signs are going to be tricky for them.

So that is here's the bugle icon of the year, the road painting man from China.

Alice, what is your award for the year?

My award is similar to the Spirit of the Time Award of the Year in that it is not for a person, it is for a significant figure, which is to say, the penis.

And this year has been the year of the penis.

30,000th year running.

But this year, importantly, Helen, is the year of the exposed penis.

And when I say the exposed penis, I mean the exposure of the exposed penis as a form of transactional leverage in business.

I get it.

Business is awkward.

If we could all just establish our status in a situation like Gibbons do, things would be so much easier to understand.

I know how many times I've had to restrain myself from slinging my flaps out in a boardroom

or over lunch just to demonstrate goodwill to a sexy middle-aged boss.

Is that why you left the world of corporate law, Alex?

Left/slash thrown out, Andy.

What?

It's all details.

And penises.

The year of the penis,

yeah, I think, well, most men were born born in the Chinese year of the penis, I think.

Which, as you say, has been every year.

So, yeah, it's been a difficult year for

the exposed penis.

Any hope for the future?

Is it going to mount a comeback, Alex?

I think that it will, as ever hopeful, rise again, the penis.

But

I have sort of an instructional, I have an instructional sort of mnemonic for people.

If you know the tune of Kenny Rogers' gamblers, you just have to know when to hold it, know when to fold it, know when to walk away, and know when to run.

But

I just think generally as a rule of thumb, unless you are a male stripper, business context penis is never a good idea.

Just file that.

Tell you who I blame for it.

I blame the CERN Abbas giant

in

Dorset.

That is

a harassment lawsuit waiting to happen.

I mean, in the past, the penis has always been behind the scenes, driving male motivation.

Everything in male human history was built by boners and spite.

But I think it's good.

What a double act they were, by the way.

Back in the 1930s, second only to Laurel and Hardy.

I think it's a good thing that we've drawn back the veil on

this penis fuel.

My award for the year is Transaction of the Year.

And this really is a story for me that encapsulates the entire world of 2017.

It's the one incident that should be blasted into space in a time capsule to be discovered by future alien civilizations.

And this is the story of the millionaire Chinese online writer who spent £7,600 on a dram of whiskey in a hotel bar in Switzerland only to discover that it was in fact fake whiskey.

The alleged 17th century vintage whiskey transpired to be a bogus 1970s lie

A big, bogus, boozy bologna of bottled bullshit.

If we cannot trust £7,600 tots of whiskey in Swiss hotels, what can we trust in this world?

Are there no heroes anymore?

To be fair, the owner of the hotel, in a blast of honesty, not everyone in the news this year would necessarily have replicated.

He had the whiskey analysed, discovered that it was indeed fake, and flew to China to personally reimburse the buyer, who we must hope instantly spent £7,600 on a solid gold gherkin instead.

Now, a number of questions arose from this story.

For example, is it philosophically possible, Helen and Alice, to enjoy sipping 3.7 millilitres of liquid at a cost of just over £2 per cubic millimetre without thinking to yourself, can I resist the temptation to ask for a squirt of Coke in this just to see the look on the barman's face?

Can you convince yourself that your precious morsel of liquefied history is 7,600 times nicer than a shot of cheap vodka during happy hour at your local student bar, that this one mouthful of whiskey is justifiably worth that money when you could instead have bought 76,000 pencils for your local school, or saved 760 endangered Saharan penguins, a bargain investment at a tenor a year, or paid for 17% of a new bathroom for British Health Secretary Jeremy Hunt, who was a close second in most ludicrous expenditure of the year for his 40 grand pitter.

Anyway, this story for me combined everything you could possibly want to exemplify this famous planet of ours in 2017: the rising influence of China, people making stupid money on the internet, people spending that stupid money made on the internet on ridiculous expenditure on needless luxury items, people then writing internet posts in which they tell the world about their stupid living expenditure on needless luxury items, and something being fake, fake, fake, fake, fake, it's all fake, fake, fake, fake, fake, fake the booze is fake because so much of this

is fake.

did he still get drunk on it?

What was this made out of?

Was it diluted coke?

Was it thin gravy?

Was it barley water?

I think it was the

liquefied spirits of angels.

It also involved the use of a scientific laboratory to investigate something of less than pressing importance to the betterment of humanity.

Come on, science, raise the bar.

It involved a needless flight somewhere just to keep the environment aware of who's boss.

And it involved alcohol.

What more could you want from a story about the world this year?

It's also a story about when China and Switzerland meet, which is basically the future of the planet as far as I'm concerned.

Bugle Christmas News now.

Alice, you are the official Bugle Christmas correspondent.

What have you got for us on Christmas News?

According to Google, the UK is the country most obsessed with Christmas, according to their search statistics.

They claim that people in Britain make more Christmas searches than anywhere else in the world.

And I understand the urge to Google Christmas.

Christmas is entirely inexplicable.

It's a haphazard mash-up of pagan traditions, Christian messaging and capitalist greed.

What even is it?

What is Christmas pudding?

I will tell you.

Christmas pudding is the classic Christmas dessert.

You take milk, eggs, some pleasantly defanged feudal traditions, orange rind, fake snow, sultanas, goodwill to mankind, and some weird chewy bits, boil it for 14 hours and set it on fire while someone has a fight with their cousin.

Christmas is where, spending the time with your family that you always tell yourself you wanted but somehow spent a whole year avoiding, you realize that you have engendered a self-protective misanthropy bordering on complete emotional blankness in the face of the constant incomprehensible stimulus that is a constantly connected and exposed modern world driven by temporary disposable goal-oriented dopamine-dispensing social media notifications.

Wow, that is a radical updating of the Scrooge story there.

That's

superb.

But Brett,

we're the best Christmas nation in the world.

You are.

I mean,

you do the whole thing.

You do the eating too much so you can pretend you still have seasonal food security concerns.

Like,

it's a fantastic tradition.

I think the whole thing is truly ridiculous.

But you are a militant Buddhist, so...

I'm a militant Buddhist, and I was...

Everything seems truly ridiculous.

In Australia, there's nothing like watching fake plastic snow melting in 40-degree heat.

Christmas in Australia is the only time good family fun fun involves standing around watching a sweating man strapped to a pillow in a bad fake beard desperately try to act like that's not a creepy thing to do around children while simultaneously inviting them to sit on his knee and tell him secrets.

That was British children's television throughout the 70s.

Helen,

what's Los Angeles like at Christmas?

I'm guessing there's not a huge amount of natural snowfall.

It's palm trees with tinsel around them Andy.

What could be more festive than that?

That's what they had in Bethlehem.

Of course.

Of course it is.

Yeah.

It's probably more realistic.

In some interesting other Christmas news, a special report has just come out, which is quite interesting in this.

Despite traditional wisdom suggesting that Turkeys would not vote for Christmas, a new opinion pollution.

There's not a referendum on Christmas.

Well, that's people say turkeys don't vote for Christmas.

Well,

America voted for Trump.

Well, exactly.

A new opinion poll has suggested that a majority of Turkeys are, in fact, in favour of the festival,

which is quite an interesting, interesting, I mean, particularly in the current age of democratic upheaval that we live in.

The Bugle spoke exclusively on this to Ron Wattlechops, the spokes turkey for the British Poultry Party.

Andy, Christmas gives us a profile in Britain that we would not otherwise enjoy.

Sure, there is a bit of an issue with the whole death rate thing, but at least people are taking notice of turkey dom.

The rest of the year, people just think we are wonky, overgrown chickens with serious fitness issues.

Besides, if it wasn't for Christmas, many of us wouldn't even be here to have the chance to vote on it in the first place.

But Ron, it seems odd that

you and your fellow turkeys should be in favour of something that ostensibly seems to have such a negative effect on your species.

Andy, we know this is not just about us.

I know it's not trendy these days, but we turkeys vote for the overall good of everyone, not just ourselves.

And Christmas is not only good for the economy, but it is also an important time of the year for social and family bonding in an increasingly atomised country and world.

If it so happens that this necessitates the mechanised slaughter of millions of us turkeys, then we have to stop thinking of ourselves first.

Is that still allowed in the polling station in Britain?

You humans are voting yourself to your own democratic demise, and yet you give us all this shit about whether or not we vote for Christmas.

You make me fing sick, you gluttonous, hypocritical narcissists.

Now give me that corn and grasshopper salad you promised, or I'm going to shit on your sound recorder, you fucking dick.

Ron, thank you for talking to the bugle.

Strong, strongly expressed opinions from Ron there.

But yeah,

it's important to hear the other side of these things.

In ISIS Christmas news, The Sun, well, it's more bad journalism news, but The Sun has published a top-notch piece of terror-mongering

entitled, ISIS Thugs Post Bizarre Image of Beheaded Santa Claus as Terror Groups Vow to Launch Christmas Attacks.

So The Sun has brought out a range of terrifying images which are from the ISIS publicity.

I don't know what their mailing list is like, but just in case you didn't know how afraid you should be while in the midst of your Christmas dinner, they've said that jihadis have called on lone wolf attackers to target ordinary families in their homes at Christmas.

Which

I think statistically the terror of Christmas is entirely adequate unto itself.

I don't think we need to worry about people bombing our homes.

I think we need to worry about buying Christmas presents for people we don't like that they won't like and and games of resentful relationship destroying monopoly, and drunken grabby aunts vomiting off the edge of the rand into the kiddie pool.

So we need to worry about capitalism invading our homes, not bombers.

In some Christmases, a terror attack would be a welcome relief, is what I'm saying.

Yeah, well, I mean, also at Christmas, we're used to strange bearded men bursting into our houses unexpectedly.

Bugle naughty news now.

And interestingly, as well as Britain being the nation that searches Christmas the most on the internet, as Alice revealed, apparently Christmas is the horniest time of the year.

As the song goes, it's the most horny time of the year.

And to mark this, you as our naughty news correspondent have a couple of stories for us.

Yes, in naughty fish news, there is a species of fish that gathers once a year for a reproductive orgy that is so loud that nearby sea mammals are in danger of permanent hearing loss.

Was this on the Blue Planet Attenborough?

Raising game, mate.

He had to run away, otherwise his ears would have been shot.

The Gulf Corvina fish.

Oh, sorry, the dog is just yelling.

I thought that was...

Was that not one of the fish?

Let's keep that sound effective.

That's a little too on the nose.

The Gulf Corviki.

Oh, Jesus.

This is the natural world satirizing itself, live on the bugle.

You might have noticed, listeners, that Helen is not technically in a recording studio in Los Angeles.

Well,

I am, but the engineer is canine.

All right.

She's running wild with a pack of wolves.

Everyone goes to LA to chase a dream, even dogs.

Want to work in shoppies?

Work your way up.

1.5 million a year.

She's the best engineer.

This is the Gulf the Gulf Corvina fish.

Several million Gulf Corvina fish gather in the northern part of the Gulf of California in Mexico and the males' mating call sounds like machine guns.

Up to 190 decibels.

So just remember so just imagine the sound of millions of fishy machine guns firing at the same time.

Apparently, one of the loudest wildlife events on planet Earth and the loudest sound ever recorded for fish.

My god, what happens when those Corvina fish watch the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan?

They must go absolutely nuts.

But

here's the downside of this.

Because the fish are so loud.

There's a downside.

Because the fish are so loud, fishing boats know exactly where they are and just come along and scoop up a couple of million of them at a time.

So the species is ironically dwindling because of its mating call.

That is a superb piece of

on-the-spot wildlife reportage, Helen.

Thank you very much.

In other rude news, some people in Stafford, Virginia requested a joke when they were ordering a pizza online, and there's the box to fill in for special instructions which should include absolutely no pineapple and

testify and so the pizza hut delivery person did accordingly write a joke inside the lid of the box and here's the joke what do a pizza delivery driver and a gynecologist have in common would you care to guess the punchline right

I don't know, is it but they don't.

Hygiene is important.

They don't particularly enjoy talking about their work at family gatherings.

Something about looking inside boxes.

That would have been better than the real one.

The real one is.

That's the real one.

They both have to smell it, but neither of them get to eat it.

And that employee was fired.

Fired!

I would have gone with absolutely no pineapple in either, please.

Yes.

Also a fair point.

That seems a bit harsh on the employee.

So he was requested to write a joke.

She.

A lady came.

Yeah.

It's a a lady joke.

Yeah.

It's a lady.

Oh, there you go.

That's a good idea.

Yeah, this can be rude too.

Right.

Yeah.

This is why women shouldn't try comedy.

Yeah.

Yeah, they'll end up getting fired from pizza companies.

It's too dangerous.

But you could use that as a gift wrap inspiration for your Christmas presents.

The only three appropriate gifts at Christmas are gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

Although, actually, not many people know this, but it's gold, frankincense's monster, and myrrh.

Now it's time for the concluding installments of the Bugle Advent Calendar of Lies.

Well, we got up to the 22nd of December last week, so just two days to go.

Although we do have a bonus for the 25th, bonus

Trinity Advent calendars only go up to the 24th, but you're getting a 25th as well.

Anyway, here it is, 23rd of December.

The Queen this year is set to give her first live Christmas speech since 1956.

Ever since then they've been pre-recorded just in case.

Because in 1956 you did it live and after a very boozy Christmas lunch you did the whole thing in a rather incoherent 25 minute game of Sheradz with the official royal cameraman, so Prometheus Herring Jinkleton, which didn't get much further than that that Suez Crisis was a bit shit before they ran out of tape.

On the 24th of December, let's open up the door and see what's in the big one.

On the 24th, the end of Christmas traditionally falls on the 6th of January, the 12th day of christmas as the song famously goes the reason for christmas ending then is because this was the date on the 6th of january in the year 1 ad that a national newspaper in the holy land the daily grail ran the first body-shaming article about the virgin mary struggling to recapture her pre-birth figure and that was considered the end of christmas and this is for the 25th of december the traditional boozy christmas drink of eggnog traditionally by tradition represents the holy seed-filled seminal mansludge that cannot be right

i'm gonna have to I'm going to have to fact-check that.

Sorry,

that's not true.

But I can't end the lies with that.

That's a double lie.

Right,

let's move on.

Christmas food news now, and Scluton Malvain, the multiple Micheland-starred celebrity chef, has opened up his latest seasonal pop-up restaurant.

Malvain, of course, well known for his many Michelin-starred eateries, including Golden Gut Rot in Copenhagen, the Twerking Lobster in New York,

Bugs Bunnies, the triple-starred rabbit and edible insect themed restaurant in the Clacket Lane services on the M25 south of London, and of course the Crabatoire, a seafood in Point where diners

have to slaughter their own shellfish.

Well this is the latest religious themed festival outlet or festaurant

as he calls them.

He's previously of course done

his smoked fish speciality cafe, Yum Kippa.

He's done

He's done Deval Eats and Raman for Ramadan, which didn't have ideal opening hours from a commercial point of view.

And of course,

his high-end crucifixion-themed fish and chip restaurant in the Vatican called My Cod, My Cod, Fry Has Traut Forced Hake on Me.

Anyway,

so don't worry, listeners,

I can't really add any more time to the time I've already got in the concentric hells I'll be appearing in post-clug popping.

But this is his latest Christmas pop-up, following from last year's very successful Jingle Bowels, which is very spicy, damn tasty, played merry havoc with your insides.

This year is Christmas Pop-up entitled Three Wise Menus.

And

let's just give producer Chris a little credit for that, for coming out of the tart of the restaurant.

You have to choose from the three Christmas menus from the following main courses.

Nativity of newborn sausage saviours served in a mushroom manger, attended by well-watched stocks of donkey with an angelic prediction of lamb, hotly pursued by Herod the Grapes, birthed beneath a star of prescient bread, risen in the yeast.

Or you can choose panic slain firstborn of turkey, slowly baptised in a jizu vid,

appearing above an immaculate consomme served with Magi Threeways, gas bacho, balfa zagnia, and uh milk milky horse

served with a flight into aechips.

Or you can choose

gold frankincense and myrrh dish, golden, delicious apple ketchup squirted onto a flame-incensed frankfurter with a myrtle-infused meringue.

For dessert, for dessert, you can choose ane jellies on high ice cream, gooseberry gazebrills, or a chocolate mousaya.

Cheese, of course, is virgin camemberts.

And to drink, wine and tea, but it's listed in French, diviniti.

divinity divinity anyway how can you live with yourself

well helen you had a you had what about 15 months of uh of uh of living with me uh yeah being outside of your mind is bad enough but being in it i can't even imagine

It's time now for the Bugle Audience Christmas Twitter question and answer session.

Thanks to those who sent in questions with the hashtag Bugle Christmas.

This came from Leah, who asks, for my hashtag Bugle Christmas present, can we have the beeps replaced with a festive sound?

Chris?

Yeah.

Are you all over this?

Yeah, totally.

I mean, have you got a preference yourselves?

Well, what I want you to do is just, yeah, Christmas this up.

Go yourself your bunch of f ⁇ ing pigs.

Nice work.

Nice work, Chris.

What about just a big burp?

That is the true sign of Christmas.

I mean, probably because Mary did probably burp Jesus quite soon after he was

his first feed.

You'd never hear about that bit of the first Christmas story, do you?

What Jesus says, meconium.

I've got a question from Lily Ann.

Can we rename hashtag Bugle Christmas to hashtag Bugle Fu Christmas?

Yes, the FU Christmas.

It's felt like that for about eight years for me.

Consider that.

Consider that, dumb.

Anthony asks, can the bugle finally acknowledge the existence of Malta?

Oh, well, I do not acknowledge Malta as existing.

I mean, what is that?

What are we talking about?

You're just making up words.

Yeah.

There's no proof that Malta exists.

Absolutely none.

Except for the Maltloaf.

The Malteses.

Yeah.

They're making the chocolate beach pebbles of the Maltese coast.

Dean Scriven wants to know, Alice, is it true that in Australia, since it's a summer holiday there, it isn't reindeer that traditionally Paul Santas slay, but flamingos?

No, Dean, no, it is not true.

It's not true.

It's not true.

And I do not understand why, having expressed a dislike for flamingos, people are attempting to connect with me on a human level by constantly giving me flamingo gifts.

Oh, how do you think I feel with everyone going, oh, pums are brilliant, aren't they, though, Helen?

They have to admit that they're brilliant.

You don't know what it's like, Alice.

You have to flee the country to get rid of them.

This came from Jennifer,

who says, could you do a hi-ed shout-out for my dad?

That would be great.

High-ed.

My mum just hit his...

Let me finish, Chris.

My mum just hit his car this morning in their driveway.

Any Christmas distraction, very much welcomed.

Well, maybe you should start the fire on the other side of the driveway.

They'll take their minds off the car.

Ian Hall asks, any plans to do more live shows and in different places around the UK?

Well, Ian,

there are more bugle live shows after New Year, 18th of January at Leicester Square Theatre, starring Alice Fraser, who you may have heard of if you've been listening to the rest of this show and several other bugles.

And the 22nd of February featuring Nish Kumar.

There'll be another guest at each of those shows as well.

Around the UK, currently no plans for live bugles, but my satirist for Higher Tour

will be taking in many places around the UK and indeed Ireland from the 13th of January onwards.

Details at andysoltson.co.uk.

And my Soho theatre show, Andy Zoltson's 2017, The Certifiable History, also featuring Alice, has been extended.

despite public due to public demand.

Oh, I can't say due to public demand.

I mean, it simply isn't true.

I think someone pulled out the outer gap.

But anyway, it's been extended.

And we can pretend it's due to public demand, even though it patently isn't.

So please come along.

We're doing extra shows from the 9th to the 12th of January.

See me in a variety of bad disguises.

And so please try to make those shows less empty than they may be.

And do come to the other shows as well.

So we've got the 20, we've got up till the 23rd before Christmas, if you're listening to this immediately, then the 28th to the 30th, then the 2nd to the 6th, and the 9th to the 12th of January.

I'm doing a show on the 12th of January at SF Sketch.

So

you've probably got just about enough time to go to Andy's show at the Soho, get on a plane to San Francisco, get to my show, because it's not on until 10 p.m.

Right.

And the time difference is in your favor.

You're going to need a fucking fast plane.

But, you know, let's, yeah.

Can you like recommission Concorde to do that?

Sure.

I mean, what's it doing?

Just sitting around watching television.

Yeah, exactly.

My birthday's the 7th of January.

That's good.

All right.

That's the turn of the breadth.

Also, coincidentally, the birthday of my twin brother.

What's the chance of that happening?

That must be something to do with genetics.

Thank you very much for your

Christmas questions.

Do keep your emails coming in for future bugles to hellobuglers at thebuglepodcast.com.

I just wanted to say thank you for steering this ship through the years like a paternal ship's captain in one of those polar fleeces.

A Felice Navidad.

A Felice Navy dad.

Oh, right.

Dear God.

Who's been forced to drag decommissioned ordnance through the snowy waters of the North Atlantic.

You have to do a missile tow.

No?

Wow.

Wow.

Okay, I'll stop, Andy.

It is a time for charity.

It's a time for giving.

I would like to recommend everyone towards water charities, particularly in remote rural villages that don't have access to bore water.

You know, the ones, the ones with noelle, no L.

No well.

Very good.

No, I like that one.

That's strong.

I'll stop.

That's enough.

I feel charitable towards Helen at this point.

Right.

Okay.

Oh, it's all right.

I've dropped off the Skype call just for my safety.

You've got to walk the dog.

Well,

before we wrap up,

the Middle East, of course, a

significant part of the world at this time of year, has this week told Donald Trump to go for himself, essentially.

In fact, the UN has told Donald Trump to go for himself on behalf of

the Middle East.

And it seems to me that we can't leave this region in such a state of dispute at this important time of year as we approach the year's end.

So I'm now launching the official bugle charity, Puns for Peace.

If human discourse cannot solve this problem, then maybe contrived wordplay can.

And in fact, a singer-song and writer, a friend of mine, did a tour of concerts in aid of the peace process.

He did a show in many of the places in the Holy Land involved in biblical events.

He had great backing vocals.

He introduced them at the first gig.

I'm honored to be joined on stage by Miss Ditto, the lead singer from Gossip, and a former lead singer of Oasis, Beth Liam.

And he has a he also had tribute acts as support.

Man and woman impersonating a successful American married couple duo from the 1960s and 70s.

Famous for their hit single, I Got You, Babe.

They weren't great.

They were okay.

She didn't really cut the mustard.

The Sonny was authentic, but she was a bit of a Phoenicia.

Phonicia.

Phoenicia.

Phoenicia.

Thank you, Andy.

I'll take that as a happy Christmas.

Spice girls were big fans of his, of course.

One of them, Ginger, used to hang around when he was getting ready to go on stage.

He found it very distracting.

On more than one occasion, I heard him shout, Jerry, go!

She wasn't happy.

She wanted a drink.

Give me a beer, she barked.

Nope.

Okay, part of the dressing room rider.

He had an amazing dressing room rider, mostly just things in vinegar to help sharpen the vocal calls.

A kilo of gherkins, a kilo of pickled onions, an amazing amount of olives.

He did this one song.

about what Jesus would think of today's world with an oblique hint about America helping humans ascend to the heavens in rockets and shuttles.

Very subtle.

I said to him afterwards, nice NASA ref.

Oh, don't laugh.

Stop enabling him.

Never had commercial success, though.

Got him down towards the end of the tour.

And it's not going well.

I may as well give up, he said.

I tried to perk him up.

Mate, there are a good 200-300 people at the show.

Really?

He said, having just bitten his tongue while eating an egg.

That's more than it looked.

300?

I wouldn't have guessed the many.

Well, I no longer fear the world's total destruction.

Anyway, I love music, he said.

I never tire of it.

His fans loved it, though.

He did non-core.

They called out for the song where he makes the whole crowd shout their favourite swer word out at the same time.

Go on, they shouted.

Do Damascus!

Damascus.

Right.

The tour was so long, his girlfriend left him.

She left the area on a recreation of a medieval warship.

He was on the shore as we watched the galley leave.

He clung to me, weeping.

I can still fill his tears.

You've got to to move on from her, I said.

Let her go.

I mean, I'm now getting to the really obscure places here.

But anyway, he was hoping that he'd get a New Year's honour, but he didn't.

He said, I was really disappointed, Addie.

I wanted some palace time.

Anyway, he asked me if...

Well, I mean,

he lost it a bit.

He smoked too much pot, to be honest.

He was a bit of a caner.

But he did ask me, as a British person, if I had any regrets over the way we conducted witchcraft trials in in North America in the late 17th century.

Jerusalem, he said,

Jerusalem.

Jerusalem.

No.

Right, we're done.

We're done.

That's Christmas.

Hard no.

Christmas.

Back to Christ.

You ruined Christmas.

You ruined Christmas.

Helen, I edited half of the puns out just for you.

I mean, the River Jordan one was outstanding, but it's never going to be heard now.

And

I even did a Caesarea Philippi one, which took a lot of setup.

I mean, we're looking at a two-minute setup for that.

But that's

God.

You do Babylon.

Oh, very good.

Right off the top of my head, that one.

Oh, fighting fire with fire.

Helen, I think,

well, consider that because you're not going to be with us for Christmas this year, and consider that my Christmas gift to you.

I'm feeling alright now with the 5,000-mile distance between us.

Well, that brings us to the end of the Bugle Christmas special.

Thank you very much for listening.

If you didn't switch off during the last five minutes, we will be back next week with a bonus sub-episode with some outstanding extra stroke highlights of this year and previous years.

And we'll be back in the new year with another regular Bugle.

Don't forget that live Bugle on the 18th of January.

Come and see my Soho show.

Go and see Helen on the 12th of January in San Francisco.

And go and see Alice.

Well, also in my show and indeed.

Also in Andy's show.

And I'm doing a new show on the 1st of January.

And 7th of January, get your birthday presents ready.

Oh, yes.

Birthday flamingo pictures to Alice's Twitter feed on the the 7th of January.

No pineapples, please.

Thank you for listening, Buglers.

Until next time, goodbye.

Hi, Buglers.

It's producer Chris here.

I just wanted to very quickly tell you about my new podcast, Mildly Informed, which is in podcast feeds and YouTube right now.

Quite simply, it's a show where me and my friend Richie review literally anything.

So please come join us wherever you get your podcasts right now.