Seen on TwitPic via Twitter…

Yet again, you can tell that the Festering Season is over and done with, the fucking Easter Eggs are in the shops!

Tesco, you utter utter bastards.

Yep, that’s Christmas over and done with for another year.

Well, another nine months, ’til it all starts coming in to the shops again.

(via FailBlog) This has to be one of the best (and darkest) uses of Christmas Lights yet seen…

Bambi in Lights

The work of a fantastically sick mind.

I Love it.

Today, I get to post off the menu choices for the entire family for Christmas Day.

Yes I know, the Scrooge of the family somehow gets to do the organisation of Christmas Day. Bizarre, but true. And it’s been this way now for three damn years.

In some ways I don’t mind, to be honest. It’s epically demoralising getting the sodding menus in August/September, and then dealing with who’s coming, who’s not, what’s going on, where we’ll be going, and getting back everyone’s menu choices.  It also appeases the control-freak side of my nature, because it means I’ve got it sorted, I know what’s going on, and I know it’s all done.

This year it involves both Herself’s family and mine, which is a new one. My lot are coming up and staying with us over the Festering Season. Fortunately my father and brother are pretty much as Scrooge-esque as me, which’ll help. But still, it’s going to be fairly fraught. (More cynical souls than I would say that the Festering Season was always thus)

For now though, at least it’s all organised. I can go back to being a grumpy old Christmas-loathing bastard – not that that’s a change : just because I’ve organised the sodding day doesn’t mean I don’t still fucking hate it.

Next year, someone else can do it.

It seems like loads of people around us spent last weekend putting up all their fucking manky house decorations for the Festering Season. some of them really do have to be seen to be believed.

In particular, two houses on my regular commute have gone hysterically over the top. I’m going to have to stop off some time this week on the way home and see what I can do about getting a couple of photos.

The TV’s full of shitty ads about perfume, CDs, chocolates, and fucking scumshit bastard Iceland.

And to top it off I’ve just had a spam email of “Festive Offers from Tesco Credit Card”. Fuck off, you dirtbags.

Well hellooooo, December.

Details of the work Christmas Party are now coming out. I’m still not going, but even I have to admit that the directors here are being remarkably generous…

Consider these points :

1. The party has been booked at the (apparently good) restaurant at one of the local NT Properties.
2. There’s also a disco/dance thing after the meal
3. The company has booked the entire place
4. Everyone who’s going will be collected by taxi from home, taken to the do, and taxis have been booked to take them home again. That’s paid for.
5. The only thing that people attending the do will have to pay for is their own drinks from the bar. All the food and wine at the table is being paid for by the directors.
6. People going to the party can leave work in mid-afternoon to go and get ready. They’re also not expected to come in to work the following day ’til mid-morning.

I reckon that’s pretty generous, and I’m not even going!