I thought my eyes were deceiving me at first. And my ears, too. Clearly they were playing tricks on my consciousness. Quite frankly it wouldn't be the first time my senses have ganged up on me, although typically a couple of pints of Heavy are an integral part of the equation.
But no, I was perfectly sober and at least nominally in charge of my senses. So what was it that was making me flabbergasted and discombobulated? (Other Dickensian words for 'freaked out' are available, please visit your normal stockist.)
There are Christmas ads on the telly. I'll say that again. There. Are. Christmas. Ads. On. The Tell...oh, never mind, you get the point. This is as wrong as a rucksack of moist elbows.
I always wondered when it would happen. When I would be That Guy Who Shouts At His Television. Who bangs on about Christmas Starting Way Too Early. And who uses Random Capitalisation In The Middle of sentences.
Well, apparently it has happened.
I'm seriously considering hibernation.
2 comments:
Welcome to the club, my friend. I've been moaning since August about the premature debut of retail Christmas decorations.
To quote a wise man, "Christ on a Bike."
*wheeze* *snort* ...as wrong as a rucksack of moist elbows!!! *wheeze* (cuz wheezing is about all I can manage these days)
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