If you are hoping for cheery pictures of cute kids playing in the snow and building scary looking snowmen with gigantic bodies and wonky heads, then look away now because this is not that kind of post.
This is about men, and how sometimes they can be such D***heads. I know I sounds harsh and I know not all men are like this and there are some lovely gentlemen out there, and for most of the time my own hairy man child falls into this category, BUT there are some men out there that only their poor mother's could love, and my morning has been full of chance encounters with this type of man.
The first D***head I met this morning was someone who can only be described as a man who made David Brent look positively charming, to be fair he seemed harmless enough until he crossed the line when he started cracking nun jokes after I had told him I had been made redundant from my job in a convent.
The second D***head was someone who I had the misfortune to walk toward just as he was doing the loudest burp EVER, which in itself was bad enough, but the fact that he was so very obviously proud of his achievement just made my blood boil.
The third man just smelled like a mouldy kebab so in hindsight I don't suppose it would be fair to call him a D***head.
Last but not least, the complete and utter D***head who sprayed me from head to toe with dirty grey slush on my way home from the excruciating appointment with David Brent.
even the little stop off at John Lewis for a woolly purchase failed to lift my spirits, so now all my hopes are pinned on the lovely Suggs and his one man show at Buxton tonight with my ever so lovely hairy man child!
Here's hoping that the week improves