Christmas Watch 2011

It's that time of year again, when here at Sleaze Diary we start to chronicle the creeping encroachment of Christmas, (or Winterval, as we like to call it here), into our lives. Whilst Christmas-related goods have been appearing on the shelves since September, they finally don't have to jostle for space with Halloween and Guy Fawkes related merchandising, and some retailers have taken this as a cue to put up their in store Christmas decorations. Yes, Tesco. Yes, Iceland. I'm talking about you. Would it have hurt to wait a few more weeks until December before putting up your tinsel or sticking your Christmas trees in your entrances? To be fair, they aren't the only offenders - municipal Christmas lights seem to be going up left, right and centre.

Indeed, only today Crapchester's lights were officially switched on - I must admit that I'd forgotten that it had been scheduled for this evening until my house was rocked by a series of explosions. Every bloody year they catch me out like that, letting off fireworks so powerful that I think the town is under attack. Anyway, somebody did tell me who they'd got to switch the lights on. However, they were a celebrity of such magnitude that I've completely forgotten. Some of us remember the good old days when we could muster the likes of Marti Caine to switch on the Crapchester Christmas lights. To be fair, she did have the ill grace to die before she could perform her duties, lumbering us with Ted Rogers instead. OK, I know what you are thinking - that I'm just sore that, yet again, they didn't ask me to turn on the lights. It's true, I am a little perplexed as to why I, the man who has put Crapchester on the map through this blog, never gets the call. Still, there's always next year, I suppose.