Rob Flynn from Cromer has spent the last month meticulously ignoring gift-lists from relatives and filling up his pre-Christmas diary in order maximise the feeling of rabid despair he will feel as he loads random and irrelevant festive shite onto his credit card on December 24th.
‘Planning is key’ he revealed nonchalantly, casually setting up a Facebook group for an afternoon ‘pub-sesh’ on Christmas Eve. ‘It’s so easy to shop with the Internet these days that if you’re not careful, you can forget the true meaning of Christmas – the chaotic hellish descent into a guilt-fuelled waltz of destruction through the ruins of some torrid department store in fast-forward, as you sift through soiled and worthless detritus for something your loved ones will hurl vengefully into the bin whilst calling you ‘an inconsiderate prick’, the moment you stagger from their sherry-drained abode.’
‘Nothing says ‘Merry Christmas’ like the plastic hedgehog display-holder that I ripped from the wall in Poundland and gave to my sister last year’ he added. ‘I wonder if she’d like another?’