As it’s the season to be cheerful, I thought I’d start this week’s column with a joke.

I’m telling you it’s a joke because it’s so subtle that when you read it you might think to yourself, “Phil said he was starting with a joke, but he forgot to put one in, the poor old fool!”

One of my friends is an eminent ophthalmologist. (Try saying that while eating a packet of crisps) He’s the best in the country. And he’s also pretty good in the city. Anyway, while I was visiting him recently, he showed me a new piece of equipment he’d taken delivery of. It was a quarter of an inch thick, six inches long, had a tiny blade at one end and was used for intricate ophthalmologic surgery.

Take it from me, it was a real eye-opener!

Hello? Are you still there?

Talking of cardboard (!), have you had any through your letterbox recently?

I’ve had loads. And I didn’t complain. Because this is the time of year we all recycle cardboard amongst ourselves. I send pieces of cardboard to friends, relatives and colleagues.  And in return, they all send pieces of cardboard to me. Then, at some point early in the New Year, we’ll all place these pieces of cardboard into the cardboard recycling boxes that’ll be set up in shops and supermarkets.

Do they also recycle the cardboard recycling boxes that the recycled cardboard is recycled in? Answers, please, on a recycled postcard.

Of course we’re not talking about plain cardboard. In fact, you shouldn’t be talking at all, because this is my column. When you get your own, see how you like it if l talk over it.

These are special pieces of cardboard, covered in glitter and featuring drawings of laughing snowmen, Dickensian coaching inns, Father Christmas, reindeer and sumptuously decorated living rooms with an enormous Christmas tree in one corner and a glowing log fire in the hearth.

Yes… Christmas cards!

Apart from the ones I’ve mentioned, I’ve also seen a few that actually feature a Nativity scene!

I thought you’d be shocked.

I won’t get all heavy about how we’ve lost the true meaning of Christmas, but if you were an alien visiting Earth, having seen the Christmas TV ads we’ve been subjected to since September, all featuring crowds of people in paper hats, seated around huge tables groaning under the weight of an obscene mountain of food and drink, you’d be forgiven for thinking that Christmas is only about filling our faces and necking down as much booze as we can in a bizarre race to see who will keel over first with a coronary, in a pungent cloud of expensive aftershave while clutching our new Swiss watch.

Because I haven’t seen one ad or watched one TV show that’s mentioned we celebrate Christmas because of an event that every primary school child knows happened in a Bethlehem stable 2000 years ago,

Now that, to me, is a real eye-opener!

What is it with Christmas decorations going up in November? I thought Easter eggs in Tesco on Boxing Day was bad enough. Has the world has gone mad?

I’ve seen Christmas trees up in people’s windows halfway through November. Good lord, you’ve only just taken the Halloween decorations down!

Why not just put ALL of your Happy Birthday, Easter, Halloween and Christmas decorations up on January 1^st and just leave the whole lot there all year?

I witnessed a poor chap a few days ago, up a very wobbly looking ladder, balancing a gigantic inflatable Santa in one hand, while clinging on for dear life to the ladder, while his partner stood in the garden below shouting “left a bit, right a bit….”

This gigantic Santa was about three times the size of the poor man and there is no doubt in my mind that once Santa is fixed to the outside of the house, a few gusts of wintery Welsh wind and he’s going to be seen taking off across Wales, so keep a look out for him flying over a town near you soon!

I’m secretly quite pleased to see the back of Movember. I know it raises much needed funds for a great cause, but every time my nan kisses me goodbye I’ve been getting a terrible rash.

I’ve seen quite a few women taking part this year, I’m not sure if they meant to but I wish they’d stop. Some of the lady moustaches I’ve seen recently are putting us men to shame!

I think some big department stores could start to audition some female santas this year and possible save a few pounds by not having to rent out the white beard as part of the costume.

Also, women with facial hair shouldn’t be driving in daylight. To stop at traffic lights and turn to the car next to you and spot a ladies chin hair catching the sun’s rays is very off putting, I’ve missed the traffic lights turning green twice this week due to lady beard envy.

Actually, reading this back, I’m being very sexist.

Ladies, if you like your facial hair, get out there and show it off, why not adorn it with some Christmas lights and a few baubles.

Hairy Christmas, one and all!

I loathe round robins. Not the chubby, red-breasted little birds you see on Christmas cards. Although in olden times, (before Channel4 began) a robin was seen as a harbinger of death.

I’m referring to those self-congratulatory ‘What A Wonderful Year Our Family Has Had’ letters and e-mails that arrive in the run-up to Christmas, usually sent from distant relatives, old work colleagues you barely remember and that irritating couple you met on holiday, to whom you foolishly gave your address in a moment of weakness.

You never see them from one year to the next – for which you’re more than grateful – yet bafflingly, they think you’re desperate to know what they and their incredibly talented, highly successful family have been up to since you dropped their last round robin into the recycling.

They also mistakenly assume you know who they’re referring to when they brag about  little Persephone passing her ballet exam with flying colours and Marcus’s promotion to CEO of a financial institution you secretly hope is being investigated by the Fraud Squad.

The round robin is the modern equivalent of the days when friends would invite us around to spend hours gazing enviously at their tedious holiday snaps, slides or home movies. An experience so painful it made the Chinese Water Torture seem like a day out at Alton Towers. To understand just how boring it was, you had to be there.

Sadly you weren’t and I was…

For those of you who’ve never received one of these insufferably smug, egocentric letters, here is an (only slightly) exaggerated version of one that arrived just a few days ago and inspired this week’s thoughts….

“Sorry we’ve had to post our annual family report so early this year, but we’re flying to Italy on December 1st to stay at our villa in Tuscany until March.

Brad and Angelina have a place close by (slightly smaller than ours…meeow!) but hopefully they won’t bother us!

So! What sort of year have you had? *

*They’re not the slightest bit interested.

Once again, ours has been marvellous!

Hugo was promoted to Head Of Something Incredibly Important with a salary of £15 million – so we can afford two extra holidays a year on our Caribbean island.

Tiberius moved to Greece to captain a billionaire’s yacht. Lucky (handsome) devil!

My jewellery design business went crazy this year thanks to the Tatler feature. My clients now include The Chuckle Brothers and The Pope’s fiancée.

Round robin writers never consider that some recipients might not have had quite as good a year as theirs due to illness; losing a loved one; redundancy; or a major career disappointment. At best, they may have had an uneventful year that wasn’t much different to the previous year and the year before that.

Because they’re completely wrapped-up in themselves, they don’t consider the effect their letter/e-mail may have on those less fortunate than themselves.

They should try remembering…

A person who’s wrapped-up in themselves makes a very small package.

Why don’t Christmas shoppers really look like they do in the adverts on TV?

There they are, perfect happy smiley families, all wrapped up in their finest jumpers and scarves, happily strolling around the shops, snow gently falling around the town (they never seem to carry ANY bags though, have you noticed?)

Now, here is the reality…city centre is packed, people all walking in different directions (always the opposite way to me) men being dragged around shops they obviously don’t want to be in, children screaming….all surrounded by the same jolly Christmas music in every shop. And what is it with the heating in shops this time of year?

Department stores double up as a sauna, it’s freezing outside so you have to wrap up, but as soon as you walk into a shop it hits you like one of the other half’s midlife flushes!

It’s the children I feel most sorry for, strapped firmly into their pushchairs with only a Jenkins pastie for company, so many shopping bags hanging on the back of the pushchair, both child and pasty are in danger of tipping backwards and being catapulted across Debenhams.

Happy shopping, my friends!

I’m sure you all remember that back in October I wrote that rehearsals were going well for a Llanelli Little Theatre Company production of Fawlty Towers at the Ffwrnes Theatre in Llanelli, directed by Kathy Bowen.

Well, last Thursday, opening night, I had the great pleasure of being in the audience to watch some spectacular acting, with the most true-to-character performance of Basil Fawlty by Graham Phennah you could ever witness; he captured the voice and mannerisms to perfection.

Gerri Larkin, who played Basil’s long suffering wife Sybil had obviously also studied the character she played in great detail, both complimented each other brilliantly.

The only thing that totally confused me about this performance was why on earth was it only running for 2 nights?

The quality of the acting, the effort that went into learning their lines and some of the best comedy timing I’ve seen had the audience in stitches, the show was worthy of at least a month’s run, and could easily have done a six-month run around the country.

If you ever get a chance to see this show again, grab those tickets with both hands!