Christmas

People are often surprised when I say that I like Christmas.

However, I have had a sneaking suspicion for a number of years that I have been lying to myself.

I do not like Christmas. Not specifically the concept itself. It’s the people. It’s always the fucking people.

The first hint of it is Black Friday. The old images of people in Tesco barging 93 year old frail pensioners out of the way to get their hands on some shit TV does nothing for the optics .

I occasionally take part in this charade myself. If I have identified something that I actually want and I know the fair value of it. This year I knew I wanted an Oura ring. I waited like an assassin in the night for the price to drop and executed the purchase in military-like fashion. 

It is all very upsetting and it stresses me out.

As a capitalist I have to be a fan of consumerism, but around Christmas it is sickening and doesn’t sit right with me.

People buy absolute crap when kids are happy with a cardboard box. Followed by people moaning about how they’ve got no money and why their kids are so entitled.

It’s not even about being tight. I despise tight people as much as I despise people who get excited about having multiple thousands in savings accounts. 

“Hi Martin, I saved £47.56 on my electricity thanks to you”. 

“Hi Martin, I’ve got about 18 Direct debits shifting money between accounts and I’m earning £101 interest a year thanks to you”.

It makes me feel ill.

The fake comaraderie, the fake merry cheer, the shit songs. The song “It’s the most wonderful time of the year” gives me a reaction equivalent to using a cheese grater on my eyes.

The TV. I have to mention Quiz shows which aren’t specific to Christmas. I genuinely cannot physically sit through quiz shows with other people to the point that I will refuse to sit in the room unless it’s turned over.

People blurting out answers like they have just discovered the cure for cancer, gives me the same physiological reaction as having a knife held to my throat.

I enjoy my annual appointment as Santa for the kids. I mainly enjoy slipping in the most outrageous comments possible that they won’t understand.They are getting older now so the opportunity to make up lies about the Elves and Mrs Claus is diminishing. 

I might as well throw Snow in. Not being at School anymore means there is absolutely no point in it snowing. All it does is cause sport to be cancelled. So yeah, that can fuck off as well.

It goes without saying that there is a deeply distressing amount of human interaction overall, and having to drink on another scale just to function doesn’t help.

It’s no wonder that come Boxing day, I’m on the verge of throwing myself in front of a bus. 

There’s not a singular identifiable reason. There’s good racing on. There’s good sport on. I have just had the shit beaten out of me by human interaction. 

I was actually thrilled to get shingles earlier in the year after attending Bluestone as it provided evidence of a direct stress response to an event.

I would be infinitely happier living alone in the woods.

Then we get to the part which I have always and always will despise. New Years.

New year, new me. The nauseating new year’s resolutions.

Maybe I’ll send out positive thoughts to the universe. Manifest Judy Murray to turn up on my doorstep and make love to me.

I have never been more angry reading a book than when I read “The Secret”. Push out positive thoughts to the universe and they’ll come back. ANYTHING. Billionaire, wild sex with Judy Murray, being as talented as Lionel Messi. No work, no effort – just positive thoughts sent out to the universe.

Anyway, 2025 is clearly the year.

I attended Tenerife for two days. In the search for equilibrium I have to have 4 beers to even function. Rum was the drink of choice on the final day at 6am. I can use the excuse that the rum needed to be drunk because it couldn’t be taken on the plane due to that idiotic 100ml rule.

I’ve never understood this rule. You could basically split whatever substance you need into multiple 100ml bottles. You could even label it Ricin/TNT and you’d be waved through

This trip led me to the conclusion that people who snore should be taxed at 99%. So they finally learn how to breathe properly.

I plan on visiting Australia at the end of this year to watch the Ashes. I plan on this even if i have to stay in 5 star hotels and be drunk 24/7. 

Where the inability to deal with Tenerife for two days leaves me on the prospect of embarking on Australia alone I don’t know. A nation of witless arrogant cunts with zero self awareness.

Hopefully the world is obliterated before this even becomes a concern due to the wave of populist bullshit sweeping the globe.

Exciting times nonetheless.