by 3rdforum Sun 22 Nov 2015 - 11:29
Feckin hate xmas. I have to pretend to be all happy and excited ( Eileen loves the feckin thing

) and feckin delighted that Santa is coming. All that means is I have to put up the feckin tree, decorate the feckin tree, decorate all the downstairs rooms, help do the pre xmas big shop , try to find parking in the underground car park so that you wont freeze your nuts off on a trek to get to the actual feckin shop, put up with groups of charity singers who haven't a feckin note in their heads, put up with the feckin roads being chocker with families who are all excited to see the xmas shops, xmas markets, xmas lights ( accompanied by the dad's who have to pretend to like all this shit). Then I have to stay up late until the kids have gone asleep to make sure Santa isn't seen. Then they wake me up at 6am , having only got 3 hours sleep, jumping on the feckin bed "look at what we got???". Then I have to peel have a barrel of spuds for roast potato and mash potato, do all the vegetables, cook the feckin' turkey while all the time, sit their in shorts and tshirt with the sweat pissing off me cos the house is like a furnace cos the oven is on for 4 feckin' hours. Then on New years day, I have a 200 mile round trip to bring my folks up to my house for dinner. And if all that isn't enough, Eileen ususally wants to go traipsing around the feckin' shops for the new year sales ( I don't go with her ). She usually spends a load of money on shit we don't need while we have to throw out all the shit from last year cos there is no feckin' room. Xmas my arse!
