I’m beginning to feel like such a Scrooge. I am genuinely resenting the amount of Christmas adverts currently on TV in the middle of November. I’m more bothered by the fact that they started in October!
Already, the usual suspects have their thirty seconds of Christmas retail shoulder-nudging...Argos, Morrison’s, Lidl (Who would have thought it was pronounced Lee-Dull!?) and Boots. Oh yes, Boots.
Here come the girls!
Here come the girls indeed!
This advert is the single most obnoxious thing on television at the moment. It drives me mental every time it comes on and demonstrates everything that frustrates me about Christmas. I will break this advert down frame by frame because – let’s face it – I’m not doing a whole lot else productive right now (even though I SHOULD be)

- We’re off!! Three million overdressed, overexcited women pile in throwing their coats on that poor waiter bloke. This is a work do, I’m lead to believe. I’ve never been to a work do that is THIS bubbly and enthusiastic. WHY ARE YOU RUSHING INTO THE DAMN BUILDING! You’ve got all night to make false pleasantries, take your damn time.

- And here comes the pressies, all bought from your local Boots retailer. Perfumes aplenty for the two ugliest trolls in the group hoping that they will either a) win the charms of the man who two seconds ago they tried to kill in a mountain of fake fur, or b)cause the man to suffocate to death so they can have their wicked way with him. The only way that piece on the LEFT is getting any is if her love partner is non-commital and unconcious.

- I have absolutely NO IDEA what this woman is given. Bath products? Whatever it is, she’s FAR too happy about it! I imagine that considering the beasts from a moment ago got perfume and she got shampoo this is obviously a smelly bunch of tartlets.

- CHRIST!! The pastiest scariest woman in the “gaggle” is given fake tan which is apparently the funnies thing since Monty Python’s Life Of Brian.

- Oh wait, she’s back from her holidays. Oh wait, no, it’s that brilliant fake tan from Boots. Oh the hilarity of it all!

- More cleaning product, smelly bitch! Maybe a mask too, perchance?

- Good to see Andrew Collins getting some work though.

- This man is dicing with death, drowning in a sea of estrogens but loving every minute of it. I reckon this is the quiet bloke from I.T who only surfaces to fix these cringeworthy tosser’s PC’s when “the clicky fing stops workin’!” What he does prove is that shaving ones beard will get the attention of hyperactive women everywhere...smug bastard!

- She’s pregnant look! A sobering moment for the gang...especially considering the father is probably Steve from accounts who’s not there because he has “lots of damn paperwork”. When I say “paperwork”, I mean “sex with his receptionist”.

- Quick, moment of celebrating hope and new life is over because SHE’S GOT SOME BASTARD MAKE-UP and Richard from HR simply CANNOT adam and eve it!

- This is the sort of thing government are putting on billboards, next to the slogan “Stop binge drinking you utter pricks, look at the state of ya!”

- This poor waiter is back on the scene and is terrified by the concept of a straightener. I hope he’s on double-time tonight, he deserves it being surrounded by this giggling, simpering nightmare!

- Ohh, bless, they got him a present. This is the moment I think this advert finishes me off.

- He open the gift, and it’s a key to “Bev”’s heart/flat/vagina.

- And there’s Bev, with all the subtlety of a moose in a bathtub. This woman is wretched and I think the only lady of the female persuasion I want to punch very hard in the head.

- And they’re off. They’ve eaten nothing, drank nothing, but all need to make sure they are at their peak tartiness before exiting. Did they really just rent a restaurant so they can lark about like that. How much money did the company give them per head for this Christmas do? Not enough I would conclude!

- And off they go, singing their own theme tune, linking arms in the direction of McDonalds. And off my television screen.
So why did I feel the need to make a pop at Boot’s Christmas tradition? This entire scenario drives me mental; the giggliness, the stupidity and the stereotypical presentation of women just acting like floozies. If this makes me a Christmas miser...then bah, Humbug!