I have been reluctant to post these few days because I have recognised that there has been a tendency to use language in my posts that may frighten away the more delicate listener. Or those younger readers whose parents may not approve of some of the words used.
I would like to blame the preposterous antics and conversation of those members of the human race with whom I come into contact in the period leading up to the holidays, but must confess that I need to look to myself to be more tolerant. Probably need to eat more roughage, as nice aunty Caroline says.
Last night it was carol singers. No, not really carol singers, but two young ladies who thought that the ancient art of carol singing consisted of singing two lines of “jingle fucking bells” (you see, I can’t help it), off key and then asking for money. “If I give you some money will you stop singing and go away?” I ebenezered, quite politely.
Not that I want anybody thinking that I am some stuck in the mud traditionalist who believes that jingle bells is not a carol, and would prefer tuneful tales of the baby Jesus being sung loudly at my door. No. Sod off. I don’t want any of it. Thank you very much. The local church choir have stopped coming round as well. I don’t mind them, they collect for charity. Hopefully Doctor Barnados maximum security home for off key teenage carol singers. They stopped coming after the incident when they asked if I had any requests and I said “anything by the Sex Pistols”. I wish they would get into the Christmas spirit. I am obviously making a fucking effort.
8 comments:
Well Ebenezer, I'm sure giving them even a little bit of money will make sure that Tiny Tim and Waynetta can have their Turkey this year.
Our Church's Christmas Carol Singers stopped going round to the old folks homes after we asked for requests - someone asked for slient night and half of them burst into tears because "That was always Billy's favourite."
Such a happy time of year.
Ebenezer. Good verb.
Bnyock. A Christmas Fundamentalist.
The prunes are obviously working. I'm so pleased. Using Ebenezer as a verb - you're good when you're good. We howled.
PS It's Aunt with a capital A and none of that ghastly 'Y' nonsense thank-you.
Oh Sod off Mark. Write your own scripts. I posted before you.
I DID. I DID. Just didn't get that silly word you have to type in right.
Hello readers.
Do any of you have any grouchy elderly relatives?
My aunty Caroline is in New Zealand, so she won't be coming here this Christmas, with her nit-picking and general geriatric behaviour.
I have to do all that myself.
txxbe - noise of disapproval when confronted by killjoys.
Our primary school's annual local carol singing for charidee changed one year when our headmaster insisted that all pupils had to audition infront of him, and they had to know the words to every verse of every carol
Only two pupils in the school passed the audition.
The headmaster had gone a bit loony tunes.
I think the man should be honoured for sparing the rest of us the ordeal of listening to the frightful din.
Spindleshanks, I'm afraid that does not count, unless she gets grouchy at times other than when Botticelli comes up in the conversation.
If you can't get through Christmas without mentioning old Sandy, then it is a very poor show, in my view.
Now Raphael, that is a different matter. I cannot imagine how one would steer the emphasis away from him. Particularly if you watch ITV on Christmas day.
qqjowben - authority on Florentine art, noted for his ability to get on Spindleshanks' Aunt Janet's tits.
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