I feel bad for him. Poor soul. Getting all sweaty and jittery with excitement at the thought of his candy cane catastrophe, acting faux defensive like he’s standing up for the human rights of a maligned group. He’s the self proclaimed leader of Premature Christmas Ejaculation and Debt Club.
And for all he thinks he’s the king of Christmas, the wee lamb has no clue. Christmas daft in my house after we buy the tree in December - nine glorious feet of real Fraser fir filling the bay window, laden with years of sentimental and beautifully mismatched ornaments and kid made crafts. And once we all stop work and school, it’s days filled with music, baking, making, games, walks etc. It’s special cos it’s only a short time, not strung out over two months of fakery.
This insta sham Christmas is a travesty copied from retail display. Soulless themed shlte in abundance, no soul or love, no continuity, nothing genuine.
I’m sure that little known writer Charles Dickens would’ve had something to say about this!!!