Advent of Hate 2011 – Day 5

Once a year a bearded man sneaks into your bedroom and promises to leave you gifts. You can’t tell anyone you saw him in your bedroom or no more gifts for you.

Does that sound sexy to you?

It’s obviously a sexy idea for some people.


Advent of Hate 2011 – Day 4

I took Master Fatuous to visit Santa yesterday. The difficult part isn’t making sure the child doesn’t cry at Santa it’s the elves. Both parties are involved in a straightforward financial transaction, money for a photo with Santa and a gift. However both parties undertake this transaction desperately trying to ignore the fact that one of the parties is dressed as a fairytale elf. One stray thought and the whole process comes crashing down.

Why is it in films Santa’s elves are usually played by young boys but in shopping centres the elves are teenage girls? Come on Santa, which are you Catholic priest or Gary Glitter?


Advent of Hate 2011 – Day 3

How dry do mens’ faces look? Do we look like walking sticks of desiccated coconut in clothes?

Why then do Christmas gift sets for men consist of deodorant and shower gel that would last about a month but about 12 months worth of moisturiser? You only need two of those a year and you have a surplus.

I currently have enough moisturiser backed up to rehydrate the Atacama Desert.


Advent of Hate 2011 – Day 2

Big toy stores and department stores in major cities often have massive Christmas displays in their shop windows. These are part showboating and part enticement to enter the store. I don’t hate those.

What I do hate are inappropriate shops feeling they have to join in too. No sooner have the Halloween decorations been removed from our local opticians then up go a handful of half-hearted Christmas decorations. Who the hell wants prescription glasses for Christmas? Do you have to let Santa know you are -2.0 in your left eye?

Remember kids, seeing stuff is for life not just for Christmas.


Advent of Hate 2011 – Day 1

Is it that time of year again already? Did I really post nothing for the whole of the last year? Yes and yes. I’ve discovered having a small child really eats into your “posting shite on the internet” time.

Yet I’m still trying to do another advent which at the best of times I struggled to get done. This year you may well see me have a breakdown.

This year, I still can’t get hold of a crappy advent that doesn’t have chocolate or bizzarely lego in it, so I’ve made up another theme. This year I’m hoping to list 25 things I hate about Christmas. I struggle to think of 25 things I know about Christmas let alone hate about it, I am an idiot.

Hate 1 – The switching on of Christmas lights

One of the things I’ve never done before but thought I should now we have a little child is go and see the switching  on of the Chrsitmas lights. Ours was down to start at 7:30pm. Here is what I imagined would happen.

7:00 – Turn up and wait whilst Christmas tunes played.
7:30 – Z list celeb turns up, says how great (insert town here) is and switches on the lights.
7:31 – Everyone cheers, watches a few fireworks then goes home or to the pub.

Here’s what actually happens.

7:00 – Turn up and wait whilst the night-time local DJ from a station you’ve barely heard of plays the worst selection of Xmas tunes ever released. The ones that you don’t rememeber ever hearing as they weren’t the X Factor song or the rival “rogue” song or popular songs released around December. Some girl from a girl band that split up 7 years ago released a Christmas song 3 years ago that struggled to threaten the top 100. That sort of song.
7:15 – The DJ vaguely mumbles something about the Christmas lights around about 8 o’clock. More crap songs.
7:30 – The DJ pretends the lights were never mentioned and that everyone is here to hear his voice and then asks who wants to win tickets to some local failure from X Factor from several years ago. Four hormonally challenged, teenage, walking lard buckets scream.
7:30 to 8:00 – The DJ continues to play crap whilst teasing the four teenagers that the competition will be soon.
8:00 – Competition time. Everybody tries to ignore the horror of four overly desperate children doing stupid things for the DJ’s perverse amusement. DJ mentions Santa coming soon. Younger children start to cry as tiredness starts to beat the sweet induced sugar rush.
8:30 – Santa rocks up. We were lucky, Santa arrived on the back of a trailer made up to look like a sleigh pulled by horses with fake antlers. Your Santa may have turned up on the back of a milk float. Santa is said to be turning on the lights. This is good as I can no longer feel my legs and Master Fatuous is alternating between hyperactive running into the middle of crowds and hysterical tantrums.
8:30 to 9:00 – Santa MIA, DJ continues with the crap songs whilst chatting to a very fat man dressed as an elf. I can now feel my legs again, I preferred the numbness to the shooting pains that have replaced it. My son has managed to punch me in the mouth whilst also kicking me in the plums. I hope Santa was busy noting it down on his naughty list as he certainly wasn’t turning on any lights.
9:00 – We give up and start walking home. 20 minutes into the walk home we turn around to watch the fireworks that have finally started.