Today’s post comes to you about the recent February 14th shenanigans which everyone of course with their loved or hated ones, depending on the situation, embarked on a magical time of eating, drinking and whatever else the imagination would take them.
Probably sex, let’s be fair.
In recent years, the tired old tradition seems to have taken on something of a new lease of life as illustrated rather remarkably while wandering around Hammersmith the night before.
Though rather than the traditional queue of men who clearly forgot this wonderful excuse for the card and florist companies to make large amounts of cash as a result of aforementioned men trying to avoid an argument, both men and women this time were looking for the usual gifts of overpriced roses, a card with twelve different ways to say love and chocolates filled with left over creme egg remains that Kraft just couldn’t get rid of any other way.
Just think of the other amounts of messing around you are meant to do, and you are left wondering why this shift in the terrible trend has surfaced, and even now a few days after it’s all over with for another year is somewhat of a mystery.