Yes, according to at least one London department store (and I know where it is, grrr)- it’s almost Christmas already and that means just one thing. Time to wheel out the Christmas rant!
I hate:- the enforced jollity, the crap presents, the having to be with relatives/in-laws you don’t like and avoid the rest of the year, the crap TV, the crap food (turkey is “just so traditional” that you have to do it for the one moron that actually likes it), the exhausting BS that “it’s all about the kids”, the UK weather, the sheer boredom of sitting with said relatives listening to them whinge on about how Auntie Doris, who you’ll never meet and don’t care about anyway, is getting on a bit and isn’t capable of looking after herself anymore, the “spur of the moment” acceptance of invites to lunch at the in-laws on Boxing Day where I can’t even get pissed to numb the pain because I have to fucking drive, the endless tedium of “conversation” about the aforementioned crap presents and “doesn’t Grandpa look nice in the £7-50 Tesco scarf” that you really, really want to use as a tourniquet on his neck*, the conforming to all the family traditions that no-one else can remember at all, the gnawing-at-your-soul feeling that “you’d rather be anywhere else than here right now”, the absolute certainty that at the end of the day some smartarse will insist on making fucking turkey and mayonnaise sandwiches despite the fact that everyone is full to bursting and hates fucking turkey anyway, the self-restraint of not getting pissed so I don’t go barkingly ballistic and tell the assembled company what I’m really thinking, the lull between all the stupid enforced jollity and then the next set of crap so it’s hardly worth going to my client because no other bugger is there – they’re all being forced to sit through the same agonies elsewhere.
And then, to cap it all there’s the (English??, not sure) attitude that it’s somehow acceptable, nay to be encouraged, that kids should be around at New Year too!!! So you can’t even enjoy doing something “grown-up” and civilised (such as visiting nice restaurants, you filthy-minded lot) then too.
This year I hope I finally have the guts to stick two fingers up to it all and bugger off somewhere warm so I can hide. Will cause huge consternation and outrage with The Girlfriend, but that’s better than having an almost overwhelming urge to beat her mother (and possibly her daughter too) to death with the blunt end of the latest outpourings of Delia fucking Smith.
*mainly to put the poor bugger out of his misery because, in fairness, The Girlfriend’s dear old Dad would probably want to go to the pub with me and get and stay pissed as a fart if he thought The Girlfriend’s dear old mum wouldn’t fucking kill him if he tried, poor old sod!!
PS (some time later) – I’ve been informed that the great Kevin Smith, he of Dogma and Clerks fame, has read this and found it amusing. If this is true, I’m fair chuffed. If it is not true, please don’t tell me as I’d like to remain fair chuffed.
