Things that make us go poop…
Granny and the ‘ladies’ darts team of The Dog and Trumpet alphabetically collate their collective contempt for the inhabitants of the twenty-first century.
O is for Operation Valentine’s Day and, yes, you need to treat this like a military mission if you don’t want to wind up in the reject pile!
St Valentine’s Day…
Ah, that bitchfest in the name of lerv. That commercialisation of affection. That show the world how perfect your relationship is. That Gw***** P*****w of festivals.
In case you hadn’t guessed, Granny really don’t approve.
When I was a gel, your boyfriend sent you a card he had bought in Woolworths and probably forgot to take the price ticket off of. You showed it to your mum and your best friend and put it in a box with all your souvenirs. End of. And if nobody sent, well only you and your mum and your best friend knew. No real harm done – unless your best friend was a bitch.
Nowadays nothing is that simple. Today you have to Instagram the card, the flowers, the jewels, the wine, the food, the guy, the naughty underwear…
Stop it. For the love of sanity. Do. Not. Do. It.
But. Given that it will occur and every halfwit on the planet will be posting the biggest lie they can concoct…
Take notes and check your mission board, here’s the plan.
Buy yourself a bouquet of something pretty. Photograph it. Post it on all your social media with no explanation.
When somebody is rude enough to ask simply say the flowers were from your greatest admirer. Truth. And. Sorted…
Advice for chaps. If you are from the side of the room with dangly bits and facial hair the advice to you is:
Do. Not. Forget.
Your life may depend on it… also a large present, a romantic meal for two, and a suitably soppy card can result in the sort of sexual favours you have only dreamed of.
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