Last Minute Shopping – Don’t.

When I die I am going to be canonised as the patron saint of Last Minute Shopping – St. Nina of the Gentle Breakdown.  I’m going to ensure that the city council erect a forty foot statue at the top of Fargate, (our main town shopping street), where the benevolent sweep of my outstretched arms shall belie the baleful glare of my ruby eyes.  There will be a pool at my gold plated feet where weary, weeping shoppers can throw their credit cards, (or themselves), and a machine inside my evilly grinning mouth will be primed to deliver a malevolent cackle every fifteen minutes which will terrify screaming, tantrum throwing children into silence for at least three days.

Next year I am going to start shopping in February.


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