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WHAMAGEDDON – The best thing about Christmas

I am not exactly a Christmas person. It does very little for me and the main reason I do anything with it, is because I have an 8-year-old. If he wants the whole Christmas deal, he should have it. There is no need for me to exclude him from that, just because I’m an old bitter lady that groans internally whenever she sees a bunch of stupid little lightbulbs on a chain.




But there is, however, one thing I love about December. The Whamageddon game. It has been developing slowly through a group of friends and last year the break-through happened. It has spread. It is its own living thing now. Helped along a little bit with a website and tracking system and what-not.

We all know what song we are talking about, just by seeing the name. WHAMAGEDDON! I mean, I hardly think I need to explain here, but I’m doing it anyway.

The song that is EVERYWHERE, even before December starts. I hate it so much. Not so much because of the lyrics or the synthesizers, but because every year everything around me becomes saturated with it.

Drums… drums… in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark.

And the hair. The hair makes me hate it too.

Last Christmas by Wham!

The rules are simple. Go as long as you can without hearing it. If you hear it, you have become Wham’d. It’s only the original and you are out as soon as you recognize it. Sure, you can be a bit of a dick and Wham other people, I did that last year, but I’m also a terrible person. I wont be doing it this time around. It’s a survival game, we’re fighting for our own sanity!

Godspeed, people. Godspeed.


There is a Facebook page where you can get frames for your profile picture, on the website you can sign up with your Facebook and be placed in the Hall of WHAMHALLA in case you end up being one of our fallen heroes. Come join me in what might be the most stupid game I’ve ever played, that I love to bits. This is my kind of Christmas Spirit. A game of sanity-survival.

In a game of Wham, you either win or die.


Also, fun fact. When George Michael died, some of the people who, unfortunately, are allowed to have an internet connection, blamed the creator of the sites. It was totally his fault. Somehow. Because internet. And stupid people.

No fucking wonder I hate everyone.

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