As it is the season of goodwill to all men (and women obviously) I thought it an opportune time to list all the things that have really annoyed me this year. But before I do I wanted to share (there, that’s one of my pet hates, people who ‘share’. It’s not sharing fool, it’s showing, or telling, or asking, or phoning, or emailing) this year’s festive centrepiece…
Yes a nice delicious red box. With a complimentary vegetable assortment. Of course the red box contains an even more delicious turkey!
The child was optional, but as its the season of goodwill we got one as well. Now, back to my list of pet hates 2014.
- British Gas – constantly harrassing me about my meter reading. By phone, knocking on the door, emails, even by letter. GO AWAY.
- Online Christmas shopping. I have identified a flaw in the system, but I’ve already ranted about it.
- The Pogues and Kirsty McColl singing Fairy Tale of New York. I hated it 30 years ago and playing it every year now makes it more awful than Slade wishing it was Christmas every day.
- The old geezer in the farm shop that nearly knocked us out the way so desperate was he to acquire some brussel sprouts still on the stalk. He looked just like Father Christmas, in miserable sod form.
- Corporations and people who refer to Happy Holidays rather than Merry Christmas because of the fear of excluding a goat herder in Azerbaijan.
- The new version of Do they Know its Christmas. Updated to cover the Ebola crisis. Seriously.
- Builders who tell you they will fix your roof in March and then don’t turn up until November, sod about for a few days and then act surprised when you get the arse because they arrive unannounced on a Saturday and start crashing around.
- Nottingham one-way system. Now Nottingham might be where Robin Hood came from (or somewhere there abouts), but that doesn’t stop it having the worse traffic management this side of Kabul. Nightmare. We could see the hotel we were aiming for but could not get to it. Like a man dying of thirst trying to reach a mirage of an oasis…
- Car washes. £7 for this…
Its like the car wash took a personal dislike to me and missed out the area that needed cleaning the most.
However my biggest pet hate is photographs of cars where the number plate is fuzzed out as if anyone cares what the number plate number is. I mean what would they do, find out who the car belongs to, come round and do me in for not liking ‘Do They Know its Christmas’? Come off it. Hang on, I’ve got to go, the kids say Bob Geldof’s at the door.
Happy Holidays All!