Elf on the shelf
What better way to scare the living shit out of your children than by telling them that the creepy looking interloper on the mantelpiece is spying on them and reporting back to Santa every night? I really can’t see the attraction – they look sinister and are the kind of insidious thing that crop up in Dr Who. Hang on a minute, Santa is an anagram of Satan. Hmm…
Not to knock fundraising events for worthy causes that are based on wearing them to work but, to me, these are the embodiment of tacky. I really can’t understand why people get so excited about wearing them. I’ll be making a generous donation on Friday, but will be wearing my normal work clothes, thank you!
I know I’ve written about this recently, but the conduct of people in shopping malls during what’s supposed to be the season of goodwill drives me round the bend. Manners are left at the door and it ends up like a rugby match, which reminds me of traumatic PE lessons.
As if Christmas shopping isn’t stressful enough, we now have to buy a gift for a randomly drawn colleague. Inevitably, it’s someone you don’t know that well and you’re faced with the agony of getting them the right thing without causing upset. Because you know that they’ll work out that that thoughtfully-selected copy of Pets with Tourette’s was from you…
Putting up the tree
A new entry this year as I’ve enjoyed it until now. But we have a kitten who wants to kill it. If you’ve got the same problem, save yourself time with lemons, orange peel, citronella, vinegar and foil. None of them work!
Another political minefield that ends up as a dangerous game of chicken that’s at the mercy of Royal Mail. Do you send cards to everyone you know, or do you wait to see who sends them first then return the compliment and try to convince yourself that they’ll believe they crossed in the post? Argh!
What’s worse than wall-to-wall Dora the Explorer and Peppa Pig? Interminable feature-length episodes of the most irritating characters known to mankind and formulaic tales of mild peril in which the festivities almost end up being cancelled, but sadly still take place.
These short films about capitalism start in September and, by November, they take up more airtime than the shows they punctuate. They brainwash even the least demanding of children and get stuck in the heads of the most non-persuasive adults (Robo Fish! Ro-bo Fish!) If I get asked for that fucking chocolate coin maker one more time…
This kind of links to the last one, but I think it’s worthy of it’s own place. Why do people get so excited about the launch of adverts? Despite the sentiment that they convey, they’re still ultimately about making rich people richer and nothing more. The little boy with the possessed penguin toy is all very nice, but is it really worth losing your shit over?
I’ve got nothing against HRH and she seems to put up with a lot. She’s a good egg. But why do we need to hear the musings of an old lady who, in all likelihood, is sick of recording these messages? Give the poor old girl some time off instead next year!