Valentines

Ah, I love goat day. A chance to wow everyone with my historic knowledge and to disgust fishies when I openly proclaim that their saint was in fact a paedophile and animal abuser (true! Look it up). In truth though, those are the only reasons I like it.

The sickening onslaught of the word 'flowers' when you enter any crowded area is just unreal. I could handle it, I would infact have a wry smile on my face, if every now and again some smarmy businessman who has obviously never felt the warmth of a human touch since he left home says: 'Well, I'll get her flowers' but no! It's everyone! People at work, people on the tube, people who sell newspapers to you, people who just happen to be within earshot and hope to hell that they're going to get laid soon. It's disgusting! One man even used the justification: Well, she likes flowers! She may like them but I swear you'd be getting a much harder fucking if you had a well thought-out personalised gift in mind.

Your loss I suppose.

As for me! I got 3 new bruises and a bucket load of rope for valentines, oh, and I'm not allowed to talk when I'm on the tube. Suits me just fine.