I am Scrooge. I have an extreme dislike about all things relating to Christmas. Not what Christmas represents but more about the baggage that arrives with it when the Christmas period starts mid-October. Aside from Slade playing everywhere, the wall-to-wall gaudiness of decorations, the fairy vomit of lights on houses (mental note to self: move away from my neighbours), the apparent acceptable bad taste in clothes and the obsession it has on people’s lives and daily existence, I mainly hate the following phrase: ‘Come on, it’s Christmas.’ It has become an unwritten motto for Christmas. It is worse than some dictator’s rules, worse because there are no rebels against the dictator’s party line. Everyone MUST enjoy it.