Hey George
 

What the heck is boxing day?????

Boxing day is a legal holiday in the UK and the former British Commonwealth that was initiated to allow a Christmas holiday to box boys. Box boys delivered Christmas packages on the 25th as in Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" when Scrooge sends the kid to get the giant goose from the butcher shop and deliver it to Cratchet( as played by Mikie). The next day they received boxes that contained presents or food to take to their famillies. In truth it is now a holiday wherein one carries a glass to each of their friends and neighbours houses so the can drink free booze.... The Irish were smart enough to name the day after me , "The Feast of St.Stephen"

It is only the Scrooge-like nature of the American Colonials that prevented the holiday from taking hold here.

So there :)

[quote=Mulv;1166463]Boxing day is a legal holiday in the UK and the former British Commonwealth that was initiated to allow a Christmas holiday to box boys. Box boys delivered Christmas packages on the 25th as in Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" when Scrooge sends the kid to get the giant goose from the butcher shop and deliver it to Cratchet( as played by Mikie). The next day they received boxes that contained presents or food to take to their famillies. In truth it is now a holiday wherein one carries a glass to each of their friends and neighbours houses so the can drink free booze.... The Irish were smart enough to name the day after me , "The Feast of St.Stephen"

Well Mulv, far be it for me to correct you since you are very knowledgeable on the subject, but what you are saying is only part truth. The term "boxing day" is derivative of an upper class landed gentry tradition being they, the filthy rich, a term bestowed upon them by the working class folks, since they, the filthy rich hardly ever bathed either stunk, stank or smelled, depending on where you were in the room they occupied, oops, I digress, . used to give each other presents and leave all the trimmings and wrappers and boxes lying around while they gorged themselves with all types of foodstuffs prepared by their servants and generally got blind drunk to the extent they would pass out, wherever they were sitting and come the following day the servants lot was to pick up after these filthy rich bastards so the house could be kept clean.

As a result of this, it was typical of the head of the manner or castle or palace or wherever these scumbags lived in that he would feel obliged to give out small gifts to the servants after they had cleaned up all the swill left behind by these unbelievable snot nosed effete autocratic foppish snobs. The level of gifts bestowed on the servants generally was either in the range of a farthing, penny, thrippence or a tanner for the head butler and the servants had to bow and scrape and show their extreme appreciation for the paltry gift that had been bestowed upon them. Whereas the gift these landed gentry pigs bestowed on each other ran into the hundreds or thousands of pounds, or the equivalent of many years salary for the servants. Such practice was the genesis of working class revolution, not unlike Tzarist Russia when the bolshevics turned the serfs away from their masters or beginning of the mass migration of millions of people from Europe to America, where there was no aritocracy to trample on their aspirations.

Freedom and the ability to attain whatever dream it is they aspire for is only really appreciated by those people who have been denied it by virtue of birth or by living under the yoke of tyranny.

tin-man

And here I thought it had to do with moving supplies, the things you learn on automotive sites.

Car Nut.. You've got boxes on your brain.

Hey Mikie, think Tin-Man has a bit of a chip? Maybe he needs some oiling?

http://www.theplatelady.com/plates3/...man-speaks.jpg

Mulv, not a chip, been there and done that in a previous lifetime, when yer get confronted by some snot nosed effete snob who talks tewwibly far beck and don't have a pot to piss in, nor a window to throw it out of but rub it into your face that you, well, I say Bertie, he didn't go to our school y'know, look at his tie and oh dear Penelope, he comes from Wancashire in the North, didn't you know, wisten to the way he speaks. Such is the stuff that inflames pople to excell in America and then return to revist those snot nosed chits knowing full well you can buy and sell em' with the small change you have in your pocket and then see them looking for handouts. "I say old chap, do you wemeber me, care to buy another wound, I'm a wittle out of pocket wight now, mummy went to Fwance y'know?" Yeah sure pal, here let me get that for you, now Fuk off.

Bitter, naw, but I'm guessing there are a million folk like me who can tell a similar tale.

Cheers, tin-man