Don't get me wrong, because I really enjoy Christmas. It's a time out from work, a time to share with the family, a time to eat, drink, and be merry, and hold the real world at bay for a few days.
Remembering all the while that Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Jesus, and hopefully a time to stop the violence and insanity in the world, albeit temporarily.
The flip side of this is that Christmas can also be really shit, and incredibly meaningless.
Workmates who you hardly ever talk to the rest of the year send you cards, addressed to you 'and family.'
What the fuck is that all about?
They hardly know you, let alone your family. How stupid is that? For all they know you could be Ian Huntley's brother, or Gary Glitter's sister, or the bastard spawn of the Kray twins.
You could be writing fan mail to Doctor Harold Shipman, Rose West or the Yorkshire Ripper for all they know. You could even be a rapist, or a serial killer, or a paedophile, but some silly bastard who you hardly know from Adam is bound to send you a Christmas card addressed to you, 'and family.'
They probably don't even know that you have kids, or a wife/husband, but the 'and family' bit just about covers all bases.
The truth is that people don't give you these cards because they care about what you'll be doing over the festive season - they give you them in the hope that you'll return the gesture. Why? So that they'll get hundreds of cards from people they don't even know, and the few friends they do have will think they're really popular.
Which is all bollocks.
And another thing, while we're on the subject - Secret fucking Santa - what a load of old shit! Who thought that one up? What kind of warped brain came up with the idea of buying a complete stranger a Chrissy gift for a fiver?
I did this once, to sort of prove that I'm not a miserable old git, and in the draw, I got a twenty one year old Chinese girl, a Uni student I had to buy a gift for. What the fuck do you buy for a twenty one year old Chinese girl? I had no idea. In the end I bought her a diary, which probably never got used. With hindsight, it would would have been more practical to have bought her a few packets of noodles. At least she'd have got some use out of them.
And...works Christmas parties, or office parties or whatever...
I've got a great idea - why not spend an evening with people you wouldn't normally bother crossing the street to chat to? All that happens is that it starts of awkwardly, so everybody gets quietly sozzled, then some cock end starts wittering on about work, some bloke and woman usually disappear for a short while, only to return looking 'flustered' and that fat bird you can't abide whips out a sprig of mistletoe and insists on tongue wrestling all the blokes.
Then at the end of the night, that quiet bloke who wouldn't normally say boo to a goose, gets fuelled up on Jack Daniels and calls the boss a cunt, and wants to fight him or her in the car park.
Don't get me started.