Under the weather

WARNING - SEVERE HYPERBOLE BELOW

Under the weather is an odd old phrase, isn't it? Apparently, it dates back to the nineteenth century when it was thought that bad weather made you ill. There's another explanation that is to do with sailors or something but that is not the point. 


I have been suffering, yes, suffering, with an illness, an ailment, a paroxysm. I have been indisposed. 


There are few things which can cure such a malady. Lemsips, watching serious amounts of TV series boxsets and cuddles are some of these. 


However, one of the few signs that you are starting to recover (and by 'you' I mean 'me') is when you start to look at things to buy and get pulled into an Internet wormhole, losing hours of your life that YOU WILL NEVER GET BACK. 


Today, I have been oggling the following things and I believe that this is an irrefutable sign of my returning to a state of mens sana in corpore sano. 


Cream Brûlée Vaseline. I heard about this bad boy quite some time ago and have been scouring the shelves of many a chemist and beauty retailer. In vain. Ensue the unique sadness which is caused when you lips do not taste like Christmas. This is a terrible devastating thing to witness. Today, thanks to my renewed vim and vigour, I searched the Internet for this. And lo. Only available in Selfridges. 


In my anger, I called Amazon to have an argument about my broken Kindle (I'm now on my 4th in less than a year). This did not, however, sate my thirst to harangue as I have all but completely lost my voice (see above interesting facts regaring 'Under the Weather'). Therefore, I have resorted to this completely self indulgent form of objurgation. So there Vaseline. I bet you're happy now.  

What a load of tat

I am the least bah humbug person you'll ever meet. I drive the old BF actually mental with my unstoppable repertoire of Christmas songs... I hum Good King Wenceslas at work to the annoyance of colleagues (it's just so damn catchy) and my Christmas tea towels never go in the loft for next year. 

That being said, Christmas is on crack this year. And, the John Lewis advert aside, it is starting to do even my Father Christmas behatted nut in. I must state that it isn't just Christmas, Hallowe'en seemed to be extraordinarily excessive this year round. 

Perchance I'm getting old and jaded and, if this is the case, it is in part due to the outrageous amount of absolute tat which I've stumbled across while trawling the web for Christmas presents for my nearest and dearest. 

Like these catchily named "Handerpants". The main selling point of these seems to be that you can pretend "your fingers are hunky Calvin Klein models". But why? Couldn't you just do that anyway? And another thing, although I can see that there is a lol to have here, surely it isn't £12.99's worth of a lol?

The Handerpants are nothing, however, in comparison with this next item. "Baconnaise". I'm curling my lip just typing that word. I love bacon, right. And I love mayonnaise. Regardless, I have never EVER felt the urge to put mayonnaise on a bacon butty though. 

These were just in the Gifts for Men section however... the Gifts for Women sections held even more horrors...

A giant gummi bear. Yes, I'm sure every girl wants 6120 calories of sticky gelatinous bear. While we're on the food theme, what about canned unicorn meat?

All of this pales in comparison to my last item to have a moan about. Yes, I'm sure you guessed it by now. It's a microwavable Bagpuss. IS THIS REALLY THE IMAGE YOU WANT TO SYMBOLISE YOUR CHRISTMAS??!?!!? 

Someone call Cat Protection please. 

Anyhoo, I believe that's all the moaning that one person can actually do about a topic they really love. 

Bisous Bisous 

xx