Call me Scrooge...or Grinch... I don't care. I am not a Christmas fan.

This forced atmosphere of cheer and giving is so flipping fake...I could count how many genuine giving that really takes place during this time. Get it straight...I am not hating on the reason for the season aka Silent Night aka baby Jesus in the hay, and I don't want to seem like the freaks that write and re-write these "letters to the editor" every single year about the loss of the true meaning of Christmas.

I am not a fan of Christmas the same way I am not a fan of anniversaries, birthdays, Valentines Day, and all the over blown commercialised highlights on the calendar that demand certain facial expressions, clothing, wastage of money that you will guaranteed regret spending in a month's time, and the inquires as to so what are the plans for....

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.....stop with the madness. I accompanied some friends in town last Sunday night...Saviour Divine...if u see ppl. My threat to not exit the vehicle as we approached the madhouse was adopted by all occupants including the one that demanded our presence to purchase some unknown thing.

The people in my office that are complaning of the lack of a bonus...(apparently private business getting none either) somehow are able to cram time and money into a gift exchange...and a mirage of items ranging from meat...to seasoning...to veggies...to fabric of varying colours and of serious weight mass, baskets, pillows...I took a glance at the lunch room and went out to eat simply because there was no seat or table surface in sight to consume a f-ing yorghot.

And the audacity of people to ask me what I am getting them and the appalled look of a family friend ringing a certain red bell under Singer...when I passed her with only a Good afternoon. What the hell....I gave to the one by Corea's. Am I supposed to have a pocket full of coins to avoid damning looks. Not to mention the unattended young boy by Courts who banged away at the actual kettle...where is your mother, dammit.

And the little children...the ones that just popped out of the womb...the ones that can barely walk...the ones that touch everything with filty hands...the ones that their parents hope can keep up with the pace even though the child is below everyone's knee joint...Can we charge them for neglect or something...it has to be borderline abuse.

I bought one gift and that was to maintain pleasant office relations by involuntarily participating in a gift exchange ( that by the way was done since August)...WTF. My family is getting theirs after Christmas and they told me what they wanted.

I am sleeping tmrw...and I am turning off my phone and leaving a particularly cynical message on my voice mail for the bastards who want to call on this joyous day when they never farted on my ass for most of the year.

Peace..this bitch is out