Monday, February 11, 2008

Anois Teacht An Earraigh

God, it really felt like spring today. I hadn't seen sun like that in quite some time. You just know that the sap is rising when you go for a walk at lunchtime and have to negotiate twice as many dog turds on the pavement than previously. And you can also tell it's spring by the amount of pink and red tat in the shops and the number of saps buying it up.

It's bollocks isn't it, Valentine's day. Another spurious "holiday" dreamt up by the card manufacturers to fill the lonely gap between Christmas and Easter. A day when people are stupidly conned into buying a bunch of withered crappy roses and some about-to-go-off chocolates from the local Statoil for their significant other. Where's the spontaneity in that? Why do they have to buy that stuff on February the 14th? There are plenty of other boring dates in the calendar that you could stick a knife in at random and surprise your loved one with goodies that haven't been marked up for the "occasion".

And yes, I may be cynical, but it's cynicism borne out of a hatred for overblown commercialism rather than the fact that I am single-and-proud at the moment. This "occasion" cheapens what is a beautiful aspect of human life. Valentine's day can fuck off.

But if I was to buy into this crap, who would I pick to send a Valentine to? The pickings at work are slim. The fat guy who wears the same shirt for the whole week? The smelly fucker in my section who seems to wash his clothes in cabbage water? The bloke with things growing in his beard? The ignorant bastard AP from another division who recently blocked my car in the car park? The guy with the "lobotomy look" haircut?

Probably best to leave them alone. I don't want them to get the notion that they might be able to breed. And, if they already have done so, God help the gene pool.

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