Oh Soo, that’s rather fine.
Gxx
What are Cellarites’ most loathed Christmas songs? (I’ve bin shoppin’)
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To a first approximation anything post-1900.
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DD reminded me, yesterday, of the song that was being played when she visited Mam in the hospice: ‘Lonely This Christmas’. Snowing, Granny dying - you really wouldn’t want to make it up.
Soo xx
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Broadly, mine would be ‘whatever is playing at the time’, because Grinch, but some are more loathsome than others. And Mariah Carey is in a category of her own.
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That’s fair.
Soo xx
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Rolling Stone has an amazingly puke-worthy list of the worst Christmas songs. Yes, I have scrolled through it and feel sullied so the shower beckons. ‘Santa Baby’ by the Pussycat Dolls is totally horrendous. Such a rich vein!
Soo xx
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Jingle bells. (So have I.)
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Which is not, in fact, anything to do with Christmas - it was originally published in September 1857 as The One Horse Open Sleigh. You are thus at liberty to loathe it at any time.
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Crikey. Eighteen-fifties, lose ten house points!
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Also Camptown Races (1850) and Pop Goes the Weasel (1853). Want to make that 100 house points?
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I blame the Great Exhibition. A very vulgarising influence.
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Many actual carols that were written had nothing to do with Christmas, as you know.
I was simply unlucky that not only were two of the shops I went into playing versions of the garbage, I turned on Classic FM and it was playing on that as well.
So I put on a Steve Earle CD, and won’t be listening to the radio in the car until after the New year.
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I am with you Fishly one so much dross is thrust into our lugs at this time of year
I was at the ICA seasonal do last night and I won a brace of tea towels and a doofer for resting a wooden spoon on when not stirring with it from the secret Santa
I am delighted as the towels are perfect for using as oven cloths
Busy day today catching up on drama series we like
And testing My advent calendar
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Our walk this morning was not a happy bird spotting experience. One dead swan and one swan looking lost.
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How dreadfully sad TFM
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Errr is that yer bruvver’s new school prospectus?
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NALL, TFM. Poor widowed bird.
(‘They can break a man’s heart, you know’)
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Practically the definition of tragedy.
Meantime, I am turning the tables on Sudden Daughter by having arranged last night to go and see her this afternoon, leaving Soon. Taking lemon soap and a picture ought soften the blow a bit.
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