Have you uttered the words "Bah, humbug" already this year? Grumbling that your neighbour has put up the lights? Can't believe the shops are playing Slade on a loop? Then join the club. All Telegraph reader Graham Larn , of Grimsby, wants for Christmas is sanity, and he couldn't resist putting his anti-festive rant in writing.
DING dong merrily on high, the choir of bosses singing, ding dong verily the sky, the shop tills are all ringing....
Yes, I'm afraid it's that time of the year again, when people start to panic about what to get Uncle Joe for Christmas.
My advice to them is don't get Uncle Joe owt for December 25. Why? Because he, like most of us, has a house full of junk, presents from previous years, that we claimed was "just what I always wanted" so as not to hurt your feelings.
Likewise, as you open his gift to you and your thoughts are, "What's this pile of fertiliser he's given me?"
You may have guessed that I don't particularly do Christmas, or rather, the hype that surrounds it.
This is year two of a Christmas rant. Last year, I appeared in the Grimsby Telegraph as a self-styled Scrooge, you may recall, so here are a few more timely comments on the subject.
Seasonal TV is a particular thorn in my side. Does anyone remember A Carol For Christmas, a weekly talent series from Southern Television to find (would you believe) a new carol for Christmas?
And, of course, there was the BBC's Christmas night with the stars, mirrored by the ITV network's offering, All-Star Comedy Carnival, all specifically scripted, seasonal and largely unfunny.
Not to mention The Benny Hill Show, Eric and Ernie (yes, there's more sedation), The Two Ronnies, Val Doonican ...
So what can we expect this year? The tedious X Factor and the Bruce Forsyth Show. Sorry, I mean the tortuous Strictly Come Dancing.
Then there's the fabulous Christmas Days of old, when dads and lads would go to the pub for a few jars while the ladies of the household would slave over lunch.
The boys would roll home half cut and mother would be furious that the dinner was spoilt. Cue stern looks and expletives, followed by flying cutlery, full teapots hitting the living room wall, a long silence and then everyone falling asleep in armchairs until the early evening, friends once again.
Then it was onto cold turkey sandwiches, settling down to watch the Beatles Magical Mystery Tour (most complain that it was rubbish).
Wait ... is this 1967 or 2012? It all sounds familiar, doesn't it?
As ever, bah, humbug, seasons greetings, adeste fideles and stille nacht to one and all.
See more about Christmas events in Grimsby and northern Lincolnshire
