There were three stores along the way home yesterday, so I stopped in each for a look-around. Whereas you might say that I was disappointed with the selection and how the stores didn�t carry anything smaller than a size 6, that wasn�t what most annoyed me.

To get to the three stores, I had to cross paths with three Salvation Army bell-ringers, the music from Christkindlmarket, and several decorated storefronts. Call me Scrooge if you will, but there�s little I dislike more than Xmas music (e.g., misogyny, bigotry, white chocolate).

Plain and simple, how many times have we heard this traditional song crap? Each year in school we were forced to sing the same damn songs in the same damn Xmas pageant, wearing the same damn red choir vests, pasting on the same damn smile as our parents video recorded the same damn thing they saw last year.

On every radio station and in every store we hear these same damn songs. It may be a different choir, but there�s no fooling me. You�ve got your Frosty (who deserves to melt in hell for luring the kids to come outside and play when it�s clearly too freaking cold outside for playing), your Rudolph (who wrongly teaches kids that the knuckle sandwiches will stop once becoming the teacher�s pet), and your Santa (don�t get me started on that sack of lies).

You know what I dislike even more than the regular ol� Xmas songs? Those traditional songs with a twist. With the exception of Mariah Carey�s Xmas album, all celebrity albums should be torched. Really. Enough with the country singer crooning, the hip-hop take on Oh Holy Night, or rockin� out to We Three Kings. No thanks. Try again.

Those super vibrato choral versions of songs also get to me. Much like I really dislike The Star Spangled Banner being sung by females trying to show off how high they can go on that one note (you know the one), I�d prefer to watch and listen to a young Edward Scissorhands write, �I will not cut Suzy�s hair during class,� on a blackboard fifty times.

Although the traditional songs are lame and those with a twist are grating on both my nerves and ears, the completely made-up songs are nothing short of retarded. There was actually a song about the Santa Claus mambo and how mama and daddy were dancing along, blahitty-blah. With its Latin rhythms and ridiculous story, I wanted to gag.

Then I felt sorry for those in retail, knowing that this shit was written to break up the day from the traditional shit I talked about above.

Then I felt grumpy that I was unwillingly subjected to that crap and couldn�t do anything about it for another two weeks.

Then I downed a bag of baked Ruffles chips and 2L of Diet Coke.

Then I felt better.�