Happy 45th day of the year

DISCLAIM-ERE – what follows is actually a comment I left on Mr Crippens’ page

However, after reading it back to myself I realised that it echoes my sentiments about this day rather well, and I’d like to moan about it in my own little space {with embellishments and more swearing}

Ideally on valentines day you’d wanna stay in bed all day showing your love to your loved one and then get a takeaway showing your love of the others stomach and get them to pay for it thereby them showing their love of your stomach…and purse.  But then I like food and sex, and this should be done at any given opportunity, not just Feb 14th.

It would disappoint me greatly if I was with someone who bought me a teddy from co-op with a heart in its hands {which is actually a lot darker than we all seem to realise},  I’d be insulted that they hadn’t been able to at least think of something a little bit original, if they wanted to spend money at all I mean.

I think somewhere beneath my cynical exterior there is a romantic, but it would be hard to melt through, it would have to be done in such a finely tuned way…almost to the point where I didn’t notice it was happening for it to be revealed.  Like an unexpected explosion of romance before I get the chance to think about it and scoff.  Jesus, I sound like a cold hearted bitch.  Ach.  Does anyone wanna buy me some flowers?

It’s funny how most of the women I know are far less romantic than the men…is it just because its what women are supposed to want so the men do romantic things for them or because the men want to express their love in romantic ways? Or find it easier to express those feelings on a given day like Valentines day? Huh? I sound like effing Carrie Bradshaw. *lights up a fag and tosses her long hair whilst crossing her legs and gazing out at the city*

I haven’t even bothered to mention the fact that its all a load of commercial bullshit, which is why my idea of staying in bed with a curry is the best of all the worlds.  Or going out and building a fire to dance around whilst howling at the moon.  You could even burn the teddies from co-op.  All of the above is preferable to blindly and mindlessly feeling your way through life guided by adverts and supermarkets and restaurants and bleeding hearts and fucking Thornton box-sets {I wouldn’t turn a box of Thorntons down however.. See above where sex and food is mentioned}