Scrooge, Grinch and Christmaszilla, all names associated with one thing that causes people to hate on you like you’ve just taken a big heavy shite on their car bonnet – hating Christmas. Yes, there’s plenty of people who will hate on you for going against the grain and hating the holiday, unless you’re of a faith that doesn’t celebrate the holiday. However, if you’re not of any of those faiths, being Christmas hater is seen by many as an unspeakable act that warrants said Christmas hater to be tied to a lamppost in their local high street dressed as an elf and have mince pies and egg nog thrown at them until they repent.
And for anyone who tries to pick my fat self up to tie to a lamppost, fucking mon then! As I, Swankie of Troon hates Christmas. Yes, I hate Christmas, I hate almost everything about it and I also think it’s embarrassing to have your tree up before December which will cause many people to get annoyed but I’m entitled to my opinion, I think.
Growing up it was the opposite, I used to love Christmas more than teenagers love to see their friends fall over randomly. Every Christmas Eve I’d be unable to sleep out of excitement, much to the dismay of my sister who’s bedroom floor I’d sleep on every year until I was about 11. My mum would also be woken up at an unlawful hour to go downstairs to open presents and I’d be buzzing about the whole day and the next couple of days after when I was at my dads’ house for Christmas round 2. It was the best period for me but as I grew older and became an adult, well sort of an adult, I began to despise it to the point I became militant about it.
Yet now I generally hate it. The only things I enjoy about is the food, as c’mon even non-meat and pork eaters love the principle of pigs in blankets so much they make non-meat versions and the gifts as who doesn’t love free things even if it’s Lynx (Axe) Africa. Everything else about the day and the 4 month lead up can get a swift boot the face, especially with the what feels like a 17-month build-up to the day.
Every year it seems that the highway to hell known as the lead up to Shitmas Day (meant to be spelt this way) comes earlier and earlier, with companies starting their awful advertisements and themed deals/packaging as early as October. All you see for months is the same advertisements and hear the same songs over and over, there are only so many things you can get shoved down your throat until you choke and have to become a spitter. There’s no escape from it and when you talk about your hate for it you’re suddenly a villain yucking someone else’s yum when the whole time your yum is getting yucked by the world. All Christmas haters will have to suffer through a lot and it’s never going to go away which is fine, we can accept people’s love for the holiday, but it needs to simmer down just a tad.
December 25th is now just a day I spend drinking a lot of alcohol and being very merrily miserable, it’s become my tradition after I had my cold black heartbroken by finding out someone I was crazy for had gone from breaking up with their partner to having a new partner within a few weeks. Is that the reason why I hate Christmas? Actually no, but it’s what helped me cross the finish line into the side of hating Christmas after edging closer and closer to the line every year.
My new tradition of drinking and being miserable is what I now enjoy about the day, I enjoy being away from the mass celebrations and not having to sit through hearing that distant cousin make some terrible joke upon receiving a fragrance related gift. Being able to just have my own day with no expectations of succumbing to what others want me to be like and able to have all the emotions that I have on that day as being expected to be buzzing and happy because ‘tis the season to be jolly’, is painful.
The hate I have for the character (keep in) Jesus’ birthday is most likely to never change and for some, it may be seen as a sad thing, but to me, it’s not. I’m simply celebrating a holiday in my own way by not celebrating it and doing what I want to do; which is getting drunk and being thankful I’m not being forced to be jolly, not listening to shitty music, not being forced to conform to an image certain people want on that day and not joining in the celebration of consumerism which is the actual meaning of Christmas which is religion. Boo Christmas, yay alcohol!
Swankie – 24, Scotland. Loveable Loser.