Those of you who have been around for a while will know my attitude to Christmas.
I love it, provided it is only celebrated on one day of the year in Outer Mongolia, and I never have to listen to sleigh Bells, Bing Crosby and fucking Slade. I fucking hate and despise that Slade song. I fucking hate the ghastly advertisements, the tacky music and the plastic veneer of jollity that is imposed on us, but for sheer tacky, teeth grinding, nauseating crap, that Slade song wins hands down.
Yesterday I got an email.
It was from some shower of wankers telling me to get my order in early so that I could enjoy a perfect Christmas.
For fuck’s sake! This is September. Our Gubmint are still on their Summer Holidays. This time last year I was in France on my Summer Holidays. Christmas is still over three fucking months away and they want me to get my fucking order in early?
Of course I wrote back to them.
I thanked them for their early reminder, and told them how much I appreciated their concern that I should have a perfect day. I told them I was placing a huge order of their stuff and that it was attached to the mail.
The attachment contained a particularly virulent virus that at the very least will wipe their entire database, and hopefully will keep them off line until the New Year.
Ho. Ho. Ho.