Friday, February 14, 2014


Kittens and hearts. Thanks Antonio.

Valentine's Day - or any other form of amorous advance from one party to the other - is usually either a thinly veiled attempt at initiating intercourse, or a gesture designed to ensure the continued privilege. In a heartfelt ceremony of farcical fashion and much mid-speech middle-fingering, our dear Prez 4 Lifebouy delivered no less of a Hallmark Greeting in his State of the Nation Address. Seems he will continue fucking our beloved country remorselessly. Constituents? More like personal piggy banks who occasionally do some fluffer work on the side for extra taxable income.

But enough of being cynical. Today is meant to be celebrated. Today millions of couples around the world proclaim their undying love for each other in gratuitous displays of affection. Today millions of people around the world secretly wish that all the nauseatingly happy, gushy couples all get swallowed up in a universal vortex of anguish and pain and having to hear the speech from last night over again. Today millions of people around the world are quite comfortable being on their own, thank you very much, and can't see what all the fuss is about, as they go about their lives without incident. To all, I say, enjoy it...
If you feel the need to lavish your love on your significant other, do so with no restraint. Unless they're into that sort of thing.
If you are a bitter old biddy, allowing your petty jealousy and solitude to consume you, put on a Smiths record, find some outlandish porn and imagine you're the misunderstood maladroit in a romantic comedy that is merely on his or her path to true and lasting happiness.
And if you're cool with just enjoying your life despite not having someone to constantly give you grief, well, just... as you were.

Yesterday I went to a casting. For a french cheese advert. Dressed like a maniacal metal head guitarist. Well, actually I pitched up in flip flops and baggies, but quickly popped into the leather trousers and ankle length leather trench-coat as per instruction, but was back in my civvies the moment it was over. I certainly hope my antics were convincing enough. I have perfected the perception that I am capable of holding my own musically by carefully cultivating "the look". For once I could honestly use my ruse to my advantage. But then another group of friends (including Mein Sohn) pitched up in full corpse painted glory and, I suspect, stole the show. Oh well, at least I got to watch "Mitch the Mustache" blast the Proteas a new one.

Oh, and then it was my turn to host Dinner Club, which was my most ambitious ever and a resounding success. My kitchen, however, looks like Dresden drenched in deliciousness.

And on that rather forced note, I'd like to introduce you to a little 600 Year Old Butt Song From Hell. Thanks to Dr-Benway for finding this.
And speaking of songs appropriate for today, here's Love Song by Terminatryx.

NGDG: If you're having trouble sleeping, may I suggest a read through of Joke-ub's State of the Nation speech. The bit about canned vegetables and the complete lack of anything vaguely quotable will assuage your insomnia. Showers for all. No mention of the rabbit. Amanda. Gobless. Ithankyou.

Spread The Love. Not Just Today. Every Day.

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