I love them. One of my favourite vegetables, since childhood. And yet, come December we're all supposed to moan because some fictional parent cooks them badly for the entire universe; a universe that universally hates sprouts and only ever eats them on December 25th.

Ok, it's an easy target for this list; and it did actually snow before Christmas for a change. But just how patronising is the idea of a White Christmas to all the countries of the world that don't stand a chance of any such thing? I mean, how do they feel about all those Christmas cards of snowy rooftops in Australia?

It's A Wonderful Life. Just how much of this film is actually set at Christmas?

I did a few years ago and found it a bit hard-going, and I'm a fool for Dickens.

I don't think I've ever seen mistletoe, let alone played tongue tennis under it.

Every single year during the 70's, at least in Granadaland. Christmas day never feels complete without Neptune and his clashing Rocks, The Harpies stuck in a big net and those skeletons running around with swords and shields.

Well actually no it isn't. How much thought did Auntie Vera put into buying those socks with the diamond pattern? What is the point in giving presents that you think very little about and for which the recipient has to put on a show of gratitude worthy of an oscar? I love xmas but some of the things we do out of tradition are unbelievable.

One thing which does ring true from the picture is the extended family with whom the unfortunate feel obliged to gather. OK, it'a only once a year and so on, but I like to quote the comedian, Harry Hill I think, who said, 'At this time of year it's traditional to give our best wishes to those who are spending Christmas alone. I don't, I give my best wished to those who aren't spending Christmas alone, but who wish they were.'

PS - Loathe sprouts, love A Christmas Carol, despite not being a Dickens nut or Christmas fan, literally cannot believe that anyone has never seen mistletoe.

don't think I've ever been drunk on Christmas day, my family aren't teatotal but get "mullahed" on 25th just doesn't happen.
Curiously we don't watch that much tv either certainly not in the slumped in front of the box cliche of the media.

is that Christmas is something to be endured and that it's universally loathed (the whole grumpy old men and women schtick) I get the feeling that most people like it and welcome the chance to have a good time. Even the people who don't do a traditional Christmas and try to avoid it normally end up doing something celebratory with people they like. I have friends who like to go bird watching on Christmas day as alternative they still end up having special lunch (fancy pasties and chocolate and drinking sloe gin).Their whole event is as ritualised as the "My Family" xmas special cliches.

...to the BBC, the still DH has used to illustrate his point is from a show that is set in the early 1980's.

being stretched to an hour and being not funny. Apart from Only Fools And Horses.

and inconsiderate gift givers. Now there are blokes who are crap but most of the men I know take care and time over presents and most of the time hit the nail on the head. In fact the the running joke in our family is an aged female relative who is the Queen of tat with her generous but bobbins presents.

in women's magazines, about preparing extra food and having surplus gifts put by "for those unexpected guests". Wrong in so many ways - there's normally enough food going round to feed a battalion anyway, and why would there be a need to give presents to people you don't know are coming; surely the point of it is the pleasant, impromptu nature of the surprise visit and the welcoming hospitality, without any further expectations?
I always find the notion of friends dropping in and out of each other's houses in a haze of bonhomie a bit fanciful, like a bad M & S advert. My experience is that 'expected' guests often don't turn up, never mind unexpected ones (might this be because they know I won't have surprise gifts waiting? Hmmmm, I can see a possible connection....)

Was it really always on telly on Christmas Day as the cliche goes? I suspect not as often as people imagine.
I suppose the “Auntie Gertie” types, i.e. the generation of “maiden aunts” that were the consequence of two World Wars, are a dying breed. I had three “maiden aunts” when I was growing up. One of them, the legendary Auntie Winnie, was a nun who got done for shoplifting - she used to wheel my mother around in her pram and stash stuff in it. Another spinster great aunt, also called Winnie, had a little shrine - photos, letters, couple of medals - in her front room to “my Jimmy”, her fiancee who was killed in WW1. She never even looked at another man, never mind married. She was a jolly soul though. Tucked into the sherry with gusto on Christmas Day too.

...the Great Escape has not been on that much.

I seem to remember it being on Easter Monday a couple of times though.

It is one of the laziest Christmas Cliches. I was quite disappointed to hear Chris Evans trotting it out last night, not long before George Michael dropped the F-Bomb.

I've never been to one. I'd like to, but I can't see it ever
happening, either in my family or anyone else's that I know.

I have a nostalgia for a Christmas I've never experienced.

those dreadful emergency chairs that come out of the loft once a year. you can always spot the cook as they're the one perched on the wonky bar stool towering above gran and the kids

When cliches of Chistmas are being uttered I always think of this track by Half Man Half Biscuit...

Now how did I guess
You were going to express
Your disdain at the crane
With the bright fairy lights
And you moan at the snow
‘Cos your car wouldn’t go
Oh it’s cliched
To be cynical
At Christmas

You don’t have a tree
And your smile has a fee
All the same, here’s a card
For your boring facade
Jingle Bells, piney smells
All the boys and the girls
Say it’s cliched
To be cynical
At Christmas
Oh it’s cliched
To be cynical
At Christmas

See how we yawn
At your bile and your scorn
It’s a beautiful day
Peace on Earth has been played
Make a noise with your toys
And ignore the killjoys
‘Cos it’s cliched
To be cynical
At Christmas

Oh it’s cliched
To be cynical
At Christmas

I saw three ships
Come sailing in
Come sailing in
Come sailing in
I saw three ships
Come sailing in
on Christmas Day
In the morning

I can cope with all the cliches, I'm not religious at all but I can cope with those who are, with carols, etc.

The only things I can't stand are not being able to get to the bar in the usually deserted local because of all the once a year drinkers and, worst of all, being told to "Cheer up, it's Christmas!"

...the Easter eggs and hot cross buns will be in-store in January.

All the nonsense from celeb chefs about how to take the stress out of cooking what is just a big roast dinner

Eggnog yet?

Because the shops will be shut for, oh, about a day.

No doubt 30 years ago this was more of a deal, but these days? Come on, ...

My grandad used to invariably fall asleep on the sofa after lunch and then begin to snore. The sound that emanated was akin to that made by a walrus with a nail in its foot doing an impression of Windsor Davies.

He sounded something like this: http://www.sound-effect.com/sounds1/human/snore2.wav

and how to jazz it up for the week it's meant to last after the big day.

Now I don't know about you but I eat my bloody turkey on the day. I've never seen left over turkey. In our house it gets necked. A bit of the dark meat might end up in a sandwich with a smush of chestnut stuffing to keep the pangs at bay at about 8:30 on christmas night but that will be it's final curtain.

Then, we eat something entirely different on Boxing Day and something else on the day after that.

Turkey Curry, Turkey Surprise, Turkey Jerky. No. Buy what you need, eat it and move on.

About 5 or 6 years ago we were at my parents for Christmas - we being my brother, sister and cousin Debbie. My grandmother was also there having been carefully transported in the morning from her residential home. Festive tuck over, my dad and I repaired to the kitchen to do the washing up while the womenfolk settled down to watch a DVD - 'Dieux du Stade' - a short documentary tastefully shot in black and white about the French rugby team's naked calendar photo-shoot, it having come free with a calendar given to my sister by a friend. (Bear with me).

My grandmother, probably expecting the Queen's speech, was slightly confused by this ..."Is that man naked?" she asked, peering at the screen.

"It's very realistic!" she remarked, as my brother entered the room stage left and walked in front of the TV, naked but for a discreetly placed vase of flowers, and exited stage right.

Other than that it was a fairly routine Christmas Day.

Over the past 24 hours I've heard several people remark that occasionally it can be too snow to cold and/or it has to be slightly above zero degrees for it to snow.

NOT TRUE!

Here's a Christmas cliché: every family has a box of sickly-sweet Eat Me dates

Yeuch. I can't even bear to look at a picture of them. Worse even than brussels sprouts.

Specifically aimed at inlaws' traditions:
Pickled *fucking* walnuts.
Every damn year. Why only Crimbo?

there are satsumas AND grapes in the fruit bowl and yet no one is ill.

a bloke that wrote letters in to our local paper called Russell Sprout.
I think it really was his name.
There was also a local copper called Chief Inspector Robin Banks.
Sorry - this was meant to be added to the brassica oleracea thread - still getting the hang of this posting malarkey.

Piss off will ya?!