Now there’s one person who lives in my house, in fact it’s the only other person who lives in my house (apart from Miss Bo Jangles but she’s an Hamster, not a person so she doesn’t count) who feels the need to fritter away money on certain items that I really cannot understand. Again this began, now about 13 minutes ago when as I was sat doing the aforementioned on the throne, I casually glanced over to the loo roll holder thing on the wall to my left. Now normally, I wouldn’t take such an interest in it but a gold sparkling pattern had spiked my peripheral vision and upon closer inspection I was pretty sickened to see fucking Rudolph smiling back at me from within the double velvet two ply! But not just bleedin Rudolph but some Snowflakes, and a Christmas tree! All delicately imposed upon a lovely soft white tissue! Now I ain’t bothered that toilet tissue has patterns on it, whatever floats ya boat, but to have festive characters on a roll of stuff that you use to wipe the remnants of your last curry off your arse cheeks with is pretty ironic considering the whole Christmas bollox is a load of shit anyway!
Anyhow, as I was pondering this issue, I thought about what other things you could have on the toilet roll, what other designs or characters. Personally, and I think a fair few others would agree, I’d like the faces of the moderator of a certain Birding chit chat forum, the leader of a certain fantasy birding organisation and Bob Geldoff just because he’s a scruffy cunt! I’d get so much pleasure from knowing they were getting all pooey and stuff every time I went for a number two! Anyway, I digress, back to something else which I ponder, why on earth can I not find Mince Pies in any supermarket before the middle of November? Is it cos I’m not looking hard enough? Erm, Noo!, I’ve looked everywhere for them, in the Spring, Summer and early Autumn but they’re nowhere to be found! They’re like the cake version of a bloke who fakes his own death in January but mysteriously reappears in November after spending 10 months with his buxom latino 17 year old fuck puppet in some seedy motel in Benidorm... But this character does it every bleedin year! Does Mr Kipling & the cake factory get to November and after nearly a year of banging out Bakewell tarts, jam tarts, little apple pies and stuff, all of a sudden strides into his empire of pastry & sugar and announce ‘’Right, my devoted Umpa Plumpers (yeh I did say Plumpers there, I find it more appropriate than Lumpers with it being cake and all) put down the jam filling, stop fiddling with icing and small halves of glacier cherries for it is time, time to begin making those most British of festive treats, the Mince Pie!’’ He probably doesn’t actually.
I have also in recent weeks been pondering (infact it’s been years but it always peaks around this time of year) why some folk consider it a necessity to adorn their houses with such ghastly displays of eccentric Christmassy bullshit. Driving through many local housing estate in recent days (due to work related missions) has seen my eyes being poisoned by an all mighty manner of vile and disturbing visions of yuletide attention seeking. Now I came from a council estate and thus have the relevant background knowledge and permission to comment here that I feel that it’s pretty ironic that the families who reside within such places often are malnourished and dirty, their children patter off to school wearing carpet slippers and hand me downs and their homes inside resemble Steptoe’s parlour BUT around this time they can spend a small fortune in electricity making their homes visible from space! For what reason? That I am yet to discover...
Oh, just for the bird nerds who may be still reading, I saw a Merlin & some Red Grouse yesterday near Glossop. Intriguing hey!
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