Now it is that time of the year to think of those more fortunate than ourselves. To think what undeserving jammy bastards they are to be able to afford all that multitude of overpriced tat that comes in glossy catalogues though our letterboxes with annoying over-frequency at this time of year. No doubt too, they have many friends or relatives, at least several of whom find the idea of yet-another novelty-shaped corkscrew to be the one thing they have always desired.
However, the rest of us face this period with ever-increasing dread, not looking forward to what we know will be a fruitless trudge though cold streets, dodging and weaving through the preposterous seasonal crowds. Searching for something, anything, that is even in some small way slightly different to last year's dismal offering, without being quite as brain-numbingly awful as the garbage in those far-too-glossy-for-any-other-use catalogues. Far too glossy for use as anything else like lining the cat tray, wiping up dog vomit, lighting the fire, wrapping fragile items or - indeed - anything beyond lobbing into the re-cycling bin straight after that first cursory and increasingly incredulous skim through.
So, in the end it will probably be the perfume again. We know we are on fairly safe ground there. After all last year's is almost all gone, anyway. "At least," she'll sigh, wistfully "it is something I use."
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