A Quiz What I Wrote

'Tis the scene to be jolly on the outside, out of pocket due to your weak humane generosity and stuffed with so much tryptophan-packed turkey bird and cranberry sludge that you collapse in the living room before one of those all too inevitably disappointing TV Christmas specials. At least that's what's going to happen to me. I'm counting on it.

One sign of the imminence of the day we celebrate our Saviour's birth is the Christmas quiz; found in newspapers and periodicals every-sodding-where.

Here's the one I did or "compiled" for this year's New Statesman. Go on: nitpick like there's no tomorrow. I know you will. You always do. I know I will right now because I wrote the thing a few weeks ago and already certain phrasings and wibbles are starting to get on my wick. Perfectionism comes with the territory.