Christmas & all its joy.

Well that’s another one over and just the New Year to get through, the descent toward crossing another year off begins in earnest.

I received a Christmas card from my Mother which stated ” To my son on your first Christmas” I’m only 44 years of age so not quite sure what she was trying to imply, possibly the one year old cards were on sale prior to Christmas. Selection boxes that have chocolates that were designed for a tiny, tiny, very tiny mouth, I’m sure chocolates were never this small when we were children, replace rip-off Britain with rip-off Sainsbury’s.

Not a drop of snow, no cold, no rain ” Do they know its Christmas, at all”  the ozone has really gone to town this year, maybe Mr Cameron & Mr Clegg will be asking for the oldies to give back their winter payments seen as they didn’t really need it this year. What on earth happened with Christmas Television this year it’s as if terrestrial TV just gave up, I can honestly say I can’t remember one decent thing that was on the TV this year not even any decent repeats I have had to resort to UK Gold to find them.

The crap that has infested the music charts at Christmas over the last few years continued with its relentless pace and really out did itself this year with Soldier Wives singing all the way to top of the pop charts, the only bonus that it stopped the Cowell machine from its usual Christmas deception and mind control.

Then the Sales hit and every man and his dog go mental, and by the sight of the queues at some of the Christmas sales I saw on TV there were actually more dogs than man, who said a dog is not just for Christmas. Why on earth do these people feel the need to actually camp out in front of a store in the early hours of Boxing day in the hope that they may be able to get 37p off the price of a HD TV  just to replace the HD TV that they already have sat in their front room, that’s all it is the need to want things, to own things in the hope that it will fill their otherwise empty existence, I find it sad the fact that they don’t understand that it’s all a big con, they are being conned carried away in the excitement in a complete knickers wetting con, how many of last seasons shoes can you really have, how many do you need to feel happy.

Bah to the Humbug.


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