Friday, February 03, 2006

Only 11 shopping days left.......

until Valentines Day.
What a load of crap. It is just another reason to go out and spend money, so you can prove to someone that you love them.
Well, go ahead. Far be it for me to tell you not to. You have a brain, or something taking up space between your ears, decide for yourself. I realise that is a radical concept.
Everywhere you look are ads for Valentines Day, and if that isn't bad enough, lurking in the wings is Easter. Those damned bunnies are already showing up in every store you walk into. And you know what they say about rabbits.
Then even before they finally get rid of all the damned bunnies, who have multiplied like Tribbles in a grain bin, the retailers are hawking merchandise for Mothers Day. "If you love your mother you will buy her X."
Followed closely by Fathers Day, the Fourth of July, Labor Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving and every retailers nervana, Christmas.
I am worn out already.
Every so called holiday is filled with and over run by advertising reminding you to buy something. If you really care. Do it for your mother, your father, your sweetie and if all else fails, do it for the children............because they need to get indoctrinated into this nonstop retailers frenzy. Future buyers of that expensive crap, just they can show somebody that they love them.
What ever happened to spending your time, instead of money? Does your mother, father or whoever really need another something? Pretty soon they have to have a bigger house just to store all those "tokens of love", or at least a storage space somewhere.
Let us not forget about birthdays. Especially "for the children"........ they just have to have a better, bigger blowout than their friends had. Parents trying to out do each other with these parties, charging up the old credit card, hiring caterers, magicians, clowns and the like.
Really gives me heartburn....err....a warm and fuzzy feeling. Is it any wonder that most kids have an unrealistic view of life? This nonstop materialistic parade starts before they are born and spirals out of control for most of their lives.

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