Like lung butter. Possibly lumpy.
Clotilda Puddingworth coughed up some lung custard. Shall I put this in a sandwich, she wondered.
Short for Criimbabwe, long for Crimbo. Day when some fanatical ancient Middle Eastern geezer wasn't born, whatever the real date was.
Despair and suicide-inducing orgy of hoggish overeating and heavy drinking due to the shock of suddenly finding yourself locked up in close confinement with your 'better' half and other 'nearest and dearest' best kept several hundred miles or a couple of frontiers away. A time marooned thus with nothing else to do but get on each other's nerves and watch endless television.
In Ozland they can have a barby at Barbway.
Bloody Barbway! Why do they have to spoil what is quite a special, peaceful time of the year in nature.