Monday, 13 February 2012

Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love

Valentine’s Day is a wonderful day where we can all come together and realise just how bitter and lonely we really are, and reconfirm our hatred of everyone who isn’t. Some spend the day waiting at the mailbox, hoping for the mailman to finally arrive and deliver their massive box of lubricious chocolates which they had sent – self-addressed – several days before. Others make hurried calculations to determine how many cats they can possibly spend the rest of their life with before the risk of a vicious cat uprising outweigh the benefits of a life where being mauled by Mrs. Tinkles marks the end of a sordid feline existence. I still don’t have a cat, so I’m spending the day updating a blog that’s frequented less often than O’Malley’s Bar. (Yes. Nick Cave references, everywhere).

Now, I have nothing against the score of lurid romantics. I enjoy nothing more than a good story involving romantic, but tragically inclined nightingales (niche market, but Wilde delivers). I’ve got nothing against the flurry of half-price sales on February 15, where people as romantically moribund as myself can drown themselves in an orgy of sad chocolate. I think the annual influx of love-heart toting bears and anatomically incorrect balloons might be an elaborate cover for an ursine invasion; or simply a little hackneyed, but that’s just me.

If you’re lucky enough to have someone today, make the most of the holiday. It might be a corporatized, meaningless holiday as abjectly romantic as a gun-slinging polar bear with the words ‘I wuv woo’ emblazoned on its blood-stained chest; but it comes only once per year, and you should enjoy it. Try to spare a thought for the hapless souls who aren’t as fortunate.

We will be, and we hate you for it as well. :)

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I don't feel amorous
I knew you'd misconstrue.

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