Jingle This

I already don’t like this time of year. For one, it’s far too commercial, and it seems as though every year we are inundated with holiday decor and advertisements that inform the brainwashed masses who think they must buy their spouse a Lexus and their kids the latest and greatest popular toy (that will, undoubtedly, break after a week) earlier and earlier. This year, I saw a bunch of holiday, crap, er stuff out before Halloween. Call me crazy (everyone else does), but that’s far too early. It’s almost akin to seeing Valentine’s Day (yet another high-dollar “holiday”) stuff at Christmastime.

Anyway, in addition to the obnoxious advertisements (that entice people to spend exorbitant amounts of money purchasing gifts for ungrateful family members and lukewarm friends who they only see, oh, twice per year and who aren’t going to like whatever they get anyway), the epileptic seizure inducing holiday lights, the annoying and overplayed music, and the overcrowded stores, I am also not a fan of holiday smells.

Smells, you may ask, what smells? Now, I’m not talking smells like unbathed rednecks swarming the crowded aisles at Walmart who reek of cigarettes, cheap beer, and pork rinds. I’m referring specifically to the nauseating smell of cinnamon. Cinnamon everything: candles, air fresheners, ornaments, the whole shebang. I absolutely despise the smell of cinnamon. I’m okay with freshly baked desserts such as cinnamon rolls. It’s the disgusting, artificial, vomit-inducing stench of the fake shit that seems to permeate the atmosphere with a blanket of fetid foulness covering the Earth and offending my olfactory system.

Now, in addition to the aforementioned holiday annoyances, perhaps the most offensive are those annoying-as-fuck Salvation Army bell ringers who swarm the entrances to every possible place I need to go (grocery store, anyone) with their irritating and relentless clamor. Case in point, I was at Walmart yesterday (big mistake, big, HUGE) buying a toilet seat, Swiffer dusters, Kleenex, melatonin, and oatmeal because that’s what Walmart is for. After navigating the malodorous aisles, I was a bit annoyed (okay, a lot annoyed) by the time I left the store. Not only did I feel like a salmon trying to exit the store fighting the swarms of festive folks with zero spatial awareness, there was an annoying woman ringing her bell so as to proclaim her holiday festivity for the entire state of Nevada to hear, who decided that singing Jingle Bells at the top of her lungs was an appropriate endeavor. Let me tell you, it wasn’t. After my malevolent glare failed to explode her head a la Scanners, it took everything my loving supportive boyfriend who has the patience of a saint had to keep me from shoving her Godforsaken bell down her throat. What about Silent Night, huh?

Happy Holidays everyone!

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