Feeling kind of Humbug

I know its me, I feel unable to enter into any of the faux merriment that is all pervading at this time of year. I will confess to getting secondary gratification from Allys delight when she was small and small kids wonderment in general. But for me - Christmas Sucks. I am sick of Oliver Ramsay Lawson and even Gary Rhodes having their hand up a turkeys arse. I am sick of Asda, Tesco, Sainsburys et al telling me to be finest, taste the difference or whatever crap. Ally wants cheese on toast for christmas lunch. I am kind of heading that way. Still not sure how many we are having though by my shopping if a company of Gurkha rifles turn up I should be able to feed them till August.
I am essentially an ungrateful miserable lazy sod, blessed with a face the resting posture of which is abject misery, I abhor the Christmas doo. Work closed yesterday and I shouted bye with the minimum of fuss. I dropped Lesley off in Crosby and scooted to Formby Tesco - one posh gaff that. The yoof on the coffee till proffered a mince pie I said i dont like Christmas ......I was going to say fayre but the tosser cut me offand barefacedly accused me of not liking Christmas -I confessed said I liked him even less. Tosspot. Still the blow was softened by a vienesse butter finger.
Overwhelmed by the politeness of the people in Formby if you bumped into them they said sorry smiled and wished you merry christmas. This just did for me I started driving my trolley like Ayrton Senna on speed. The grumpier I got the nicer they got - smug gits. Interetingly a range of products not available in our local stores just in case we thought we were worthy. Which of course we are not.
Bah Humbug
Cheered my self up reading this My Miserable Christmas