Shock and aww
“Oh darling I do love Valentine’s day so very, very much, let’s do something really special this year.”
Translate: “Oh holy Christ not this again. Did I do something awful in the past year? I knew I shouldn’t have ignored that Big Issue seller, or did I leave the seat up one too many times? Must I be subject to this torture? I’ll have to fork out a shitload in material reparations for all the terrible things that I’ve done.”
Shtop! This neurotic wreck is not ready yet. I’m not ready to be slapped into submissive zombification by the emotional media blackmail. I’m not ready to spend my precious half-hour lunchbreak scouring the tourist-infested high streets for pre-wrapped, pretty, but intrinsically empty tokens. Above all, I’m not ready for supposed “tradition” to dictate the way in which I express my love and affection, and you know what? I don’t think I ever will be.
So my message to all you hysterical boys and girls out there is to take a step back; in future, relax for a minute. Think about all the brain cells
and energy you could have saved if you hadn’t been sucked into the dogma of this ‘holiday’.
Of course, for those of you with more feeble-minded partners, this might not be feasible. To you I offer these words of comfort: “Haha, in your face!” I got away with a Valentine’s card and a night-in this year. Incidentally, the writer would like to apologise to his girlfriend in advance for this article, and would stress that next year we’ll definitely go out for a meal.
