Some say that Valentines Day is a commercialized confidence trick played on lovers, a cloying manufactured holiday, a manipulative marketing mechanism. But me? I only worry about two things. One, that if you don't buy someone chocolate right now, your entire relationship will crumble to pieces. And two, that raptors may not be as extinct as 'the authorities' claim.
'Gentlemen, bad news: Valentines Day is gonna happen any second now. Ladies, yay, you're about to receive a lot of Hallmark nonsense and a bunch of chocolate that you know in your heart is going to go straight to your hips. Puppies? For you, nothing changes, you're still the best things on the planet and I wish there were more of you.'
I'm the sort of responsible guy you could take back to your parent's trailer without police needing to get involved but that's only cause my Nanna raised me proper. I remember us sharing a tin of cat food one night and her telling me how 'chicks dig a romantic'. So fellers - take note.
Greetings from London! On Wednesdays I like to post an older card and then spend the day working as a cryptozoologist. I spent the day lurking in the shadows of Paddington Station, hoping to spot an upright walking bear believed to be from Darkest Peru. I'm not very good at cryptozoology.
I'd protest this holiday. And on the burning barricades I'd chant at police and hurl Molotovs. And then? I'd fall beneath the bejeweled jackboots of St. Valentines Day thugs, wielding their guilt trips and demanding their chocolate boxes and heart-shaped cards. So if anyone needs me I'll be at the florists. Muttering to myself.