If you go down to the shops today, you’re not really in for a surprise. I know the clocks have gone back and it is getting dark and will eventually get cold, but the world of retail needs to seriously ease off of Christmas right now.
On a recent visit to The Range, I didn’t even need to step over the threshold before I was assaulted by the ghost of Christmas tat. Twinkling lights, jingling bells and glitter everywhere. It was like Santa Claus had overdosed on one too many MP and Cokes (Mince Pies) and projectile vomited enough tinsel to garrote the population of Swindon. You know that one house around the corner from you that decorates their house with inflatable snowmen, singing elves and farting reindeer animatronics? Well this was like that, but amplified on steroids and thrusting its Xmassy dangler down your throat until you gag.
Exactly what is the market for light up baubles and dancing snowmen in the tail end of Autumn? Children and the clinically deranged, that’s who. I know the young kiddie market is a money-spinner, but you could just throw them a conker on a string and they’d be as happy as a kitty on catnip as they assault their teachers again for the cheek of giving them homework.
Besides. It can be a dangerous game to rush Christmas products out to customers without enough planning and attention to typography. Isn’t that right Iceland?
Mmmmm vaginal pies. Now I know why Peter Andre shops at Iceland. Shame it was a clever fake (apparently), but the concept of a minge pie is worth a chuckle nonetheless.
As someone who has had to suffer years in retail in a place where the same 8 Christmas songs play on a loop every hour, it’s a surprise I can even stand Christmas now. I have only just recovered from the tremors I used to receive every time I heard Noddy Holder scream IT’S CHRISTMAS!!!!
When I hear those white bearded hippies from Wizard singing how they wish it could be Christmas every day, I can’t help but pity them. They are clearly unbalanced individuals who hate everyone, because that is the kind of person who lusts for Christmas every day. Firstly, you would die. There is no way you can live on a sustained diet of chocolate coins, roast dinners and minge pies. Your arteries would close up faster than Woolworths did and then you would die. Secondly, if you are lucky enough to avoid certain death, you would bankrupt yourself as woolly sweaters and packs of novelty socks aren’t cheap. And lastly as you dwindle on living an empty existence of family feuds and food comas, you would descend into a level of psychosis only known to the darkest of asylums and Jeremy Kyle show victims.
So this is my plea to the world. Lets keep Christmas where it belongs, in December. This incessant need to start selling Christmas goods earlier and earlier is diluting what makes Christmas special. Just stop it!
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