Oh joy. This morning I received the dreaded ‘invitation’ to accompany the trouble an’ strife to the local shopping mall, to ‘get some ideas for Christmas’.
Now as if this wasn’t bad enough, the whole experience was torture from start to finish as a result of the cunting awfulness that is piped musak.
Now we all know why THEY do it. It’s carefully programmed, designed to affect us subliminally, to make us more docile and sheeplike, and therefore motivated to shop and spend more. Trouble is that it has the opposite effect where I’m concerned. It drives me up the wall, and I just want to get out asap.
My trial began the second we walked through the main entrance. There’s some bird screeching some tripe in a key that she couldn’t handle. Turn into any ‘retail unit’ and you switch from the racket in the mall to their racket. The ‘Condor’ moment occurs when you reach the spot where the blare from inside the store and that from the mall outside blend into one cacophonous snash. Throw in noise from kids’ roundabouts, mall displays and (oh lordy, it’s that time again) carol singers or the Sally Ann band, and it becomes sheer aural torment.
After an hour or so, I did the only thing commensurate with keeping my temper, and fucked off in search of a pint. BUT. Guess what assailed me as I entered the nearest pub… You can’t even get a quiet pint and a read of the paper in peace these days, and it’s a cunt. And that’s the bleeding trouble with this shit. It’s everywhere; restaurants, bars, hotel lobbies, cinemas, lifts, hospitals, aeroplanes, workplaces, even some public gardens I’ve visited.
I don’t know, but I’d guess that the cunts who first came up with this pestilence were Yanks. It’s the kind of cuntery they seem to excel at in these situations. I hope that Old Nick has entombed them fifty miles beneath the Earth’s core in a sealed cave, where they’re forced to submit to their own fiendish construct while their arses are roasted. For ever. And ever. The absolute cunts.
Nominated by Ron Knee
And please forgive the shameless plug, but if you really hate Christmas songs, here’s a link to a whole fetid mess of them mercilessly butchered by my good self!
Give it a click – I need the money!
Nominated by Chas C



