It's that time of year when literally everyone asks themselves what they should buy me for Christmas...

This year I thought I'd be considerate and provide you with a wish list:

I'd be particularly grateful to receive a special premium pair pre-worn by the action...

...film star and right-wing political commentator himself - but only if accompanied by a signed guarantee that he had worn them commando-style. I'm not sure I'd have the courage (or desire) to walk down Chiswick High Road stark bollock-naked, but I would certainly be happy to wear this next item in combination with the aforementioned Action Pants (given that Chuck's pockets probably aren't that roomy):

Staying with fashion- themed presents, either of these natty numbers might come in handy during cold snaps of the sort we're experiencing today (there's snow on the Velux window next to me):

As for mid-season wear, I imagine I'd look rather fetching in this  - I think he's about to crush a grape:

And there are some "looks" that simply never grow old:

Now, reading matter. There are two intriguing novels that have caught my eye, neither of which has featured in any of the Christmas book lists that have been appearing in the sundry newspapers and periodicals I read:

(No, I don't know whether "Gym" is some sort of lesbian variant of "Jim".)

No wonder it's so hard to find a nurse to fetch a glass of water or empty a bedpan these days - they're too busy singing folk songs. If you can't find those at Waterstone's (I'm keeping the apostrophe, no matter what they say), then a subscription to this literary monthly magazine would be acceptable:

It may look a trifle lurid, but I believe Anita Brookner used to write most their stories. As for music, these would be my three top choices:

Come to think of it, that last LP accompanied by an actual Italian designer pullover would be a delightful gift. But, as I need to keep up my regular exercise regime, this would probably be better for me:

There's really only one must-see film this Christmas:

There are two works of art I'd love to see hanging on my walls after the 25th. First, there's this Renaissance portrait of what is widely believed to be the captain of Italy's first national rugby team:

Or there's this one, which would allow me to signal my deep commitment to inclusivity:

I wouldn't say no to one of these, given that crime rates are rising rapidly in our previously safe neighbourhood:

As well as one of those ever-popular mugs with the words "You don't have to be mad to work here... But it helps!" printed on the side, either of these items would help to demonstrate what a truly "fun" person I really am:

Laughing already! For my final .wish list item, I'm sure the ladies who make up the girls-only book group to which my wife belongs would be in absolute stitches if they were to find this on our wall the next time they're over. Or I'd end up needing stitches - one or the other:

I was going to send one to Max Clifford. Damn!