Happy Easter....

...my arse!

Do please forgive the extraordinary profanity, but I am compelled to speak and to swear in my wrath.

One is used to the Christian liturgical seasons having no purpose for the world of capitalist commerce other than as an excuse to boost sales. One accepts - with ill-grace of course - that Christmas begins in the shops about five minutes after one has unpacked the summer holiday suitcase.

But this has taken the utter biscuit and cannot be countenanced. Do you remember when a certain creme egg would appear in March to tempt the sweeter tooth? For certain it should have been held back until the sharp fasting season of Lent were done, but it was accepted as a reasonable pointer towards the great festival of rebirth and joy.

Tonight, however, on going to the local 'offie' for a couple of one's favourite cigars, there on rank display at the very front of the counter are boxes of these creme eggs. For the love of the Lord, we are not yet out of the Twelfth Day of this beautiful feast and they want to shove Easter down our throats! Literally!

Well I am sorry, but this cannot be so. Cannot be let be. I said to young Craig that my shock knew no bounds, that my ire was strong and that he must be telling his delightful manager Sarah I should be seeking my smokes elsewhere in future.

Not her fault at all, poor lady. She lays out what that Godless company - Threshers - sends her to display. But she may cut down on her ordering of cigars for a spell for I, her most loyal customer, shall not be returning.

Had, in fact, intended to quit smoking this coming New Year - as one always by fond tradition does - but I shan't this time, simply for the personal pleasure of buying my smokes elsewhere.

A boycott is not out of the question. Letters to Chairmen will most assuredly be written and with any luck an aghast question or two will be asked in the House.

Easter at Christmas? Bah humbug indeed! I spit upon their profane ways. I really do.