a) whether he gets involved in heated debates down the pub which get out of hand
and
b) where his hairy faced smelly-looking hippy picture went
10 characters? Pile of cund.
I was about to say I’ve not personally experienced this, but then I remembered an incident last November when, during a heated discussion with goy-in-doors about whose family we’d be seeing over Christmas, I heard the mother of my children spit at me with undisguised malice, “It’s not even your ****jng festival anyway”.
To be fair to her, it is true. In fact, murdering Christ and wanting time off for his birthday is pretty fvcking rich when you think about it.
Anyway, you lot have got your own holidays where you make crackers out of Christian baby blood (never really sure how that worked, tbh).