Have you heard about those weirdo people who buy fudging Christmas presents at the New Year sales and save them to give them to their loved ones the following Christmas?
Oh, how organised and economonistic they are!
WRONG!
Who wants to get a horrible, dusty, mildewed, creased, present that's been squashed in someone's closet for twelve months?
Who keeps stuff festering in their cupboards for twelve months anyway?
Imagine the vermin and bacteria breeding in those out of date products!
Where do they store them for twelve months anyway? Their underwear drawers? Shudder.
Let’s face it; almost everything becomes passé after a couple of months. Fashionable colours change, fads alter and children’s preferred superheroes are stripped of their relevance and reverence. People are going to know you’ve taken the bargain-basement route. People aren’t stupid.
One year, pineapples are the go, they’re everywhere. There are pineapple ashtrays, pineapple seafood trays, pineapple tampon holders. Pineapples are so NOW! The next year the spurned and disgraceful pineapple is sent to the warehouses in shame and suddenly the pomegranate is all the go.
Nobody is seen dead with a fudging pineapple in their house, and there you are on Christmas day, presenting Nana McDonough with a set of pineapple cheese knives and everyone KNOWS you bought them in January.
And kids can sniff out a twelve month old present from 200 metres.
Imagine if I turned up with a 2014 Minion doll I’d purchased for 75% off last year for my nephew, Henry, this Christmas? Sure, he’d have liked it last year but Minions are so over in 2015.
He’d be scowling at me with his screwed up ten year old face, “What the FUDGE is this Aunty Pinky? I asked for this LAST year! This is so YESTERDAY! I fudging HATE you. You’re a fudging CHEAPSKATE, Aunty Pinky!” He’d toss it in the swimming pool in a fit of rage and curse me while embracing the far more up to date Star Wars, RT D2 toy his other aunty had gifted him.
And I wouldn’t blame him.
Besides, the last thing I want to think about on Boxing Day or the New Year is going to the bloody shops. I’d rather gnaw off my own arm… and believe me, my teeth aren’t that sharp anymore so it would be painful to do it.
As far as some people go, the annoying wankers who go out in June and do all their Christmas shopping… well, perhaps they should start living their life in the present and stop being over-achieving dickheads, because it’s Winter in June and they should be home snorting hot chocolate, wearing fluffy slippers and listening to Michael Buble instead of snuffling around the junk aisle at Kmart looking for cheap bath towels and novelty pineapple soap holders to offload on their alleged loved ones.
As far as I’m concerned, Christmas is about spontaneity. Leave it until a few days before Christmas so at least your gammy gifts aren’t infested with weevils and wood lice. It might be more stressful but at least you’ll be there with the rest of humanity; red-faced, blood pressure rising to dangerous levels and listening to that dreadful piped music along with the hordes of other desperates.
That’s the real spirit of Christmas. Suffering. (Or is that Easter?... I’m confused.)
And kids can sniff out a twelve month old present from 200 metres.
Imagine if I turned up with a 2014 Minion doll I’d purchased for 75% off last year for my nephew, Henry, this Christmas? Sure, he’d have liked it last year but Minions are so over in 2015.
He’d be scowling at me with his screwed up ten year old face, “What the FUDGE is this Aunty Pinky? I asked for this LAST year! This is so YESTERDAY! I fudging HATE you. You’re a fudging CHEAPSKATE, Aunty Pinky!” He’d toss it in the swimming pool in a fit of rage and curse me while embracing the far more up to date Star Wars, RT D2 toy his other aunty had gifted him.
And I wouldn’t blame him.
Besides, the last thing I want to think about on Boxing Day or the New Year is going to the bloody shops. I’d rather gnaw off my own arm… and believe me, my teeth aren’t that sharp anymore so it would be painful to do it.
As far as some people go, the annoying wankers who go out in June and do all their Christmas shopping… well, perhaps they should start living their life in the present and stop being over-achieving dickheads, because it’s Winter in June and they should be home snorting hot chocolate, wearing fluffy slippers and listening to Michael Buble instead of snuffling around the junk aisle at Kmart looking for cheap bath towels and novelty pineapple soap holders to offload on their alleged loved ones.
As far as I’m concerned, Christmas is about spontaneity. Leave it until a few days before Christmas so at least your gammy gifts aren’t infested with weevils and wood lice. It might be more stressful but at least you’ll be there with the rest of humanity; red-faced, blood pressure rising to dangerous levels and listening to that dreadful piped music along with the hordes of other desperates.
That’s the real spirit of Christmas. Suffering. (Or is that Easter?... I’m confused.)
Are you an organised pineapple or an unorganised pineapple?
