Superfluous Bloviations would be remiss not to recognize a holiday specifically designed to sell greeting cards, candy, flowers and mace. Although named after an obscure 3rd Century CE saint who may or may not have been as many as three people according to the Roman Catholic Church, like many annoying things Valentine’s Day can be blamed on Geoffrey Chaucer.
Min be the tale, and thin be the travaille.
So break out the mystery chocolates, chalky candy hearts, old-timey Chicago gangsters and guilt trips. Just keep in mind I have a tree nut allergy.
“I said NO NUTS, dammit!”
(Photo credit: David Erickson)
Endure the day with as much grace as possible. By the way, cops don’t carry tommy guns.
I was going to write an entry on HVAC and home improvement, as Dad is in town today to help with such things here at the Command Center. It wasn’t as funny as I wanted, but I was bound and determined to force the matter. You know, like the later seasons of Night Court.
Fortunately, the Catholic liturgical calendar (something I don’t normally pay any attention to) saved you from all that. It also gave me an excuse to post this. The link is probably NSFW, but you knew that:
“I’ll have the lot.”
Back when I lived in Philadelphia this was the single worst day of the year to go to work. The publisher I worked for was only a couple blocks away from the Fat Tuesday on South Street. If you’re unfamiliar with this concept, it’s kind of like taking 30 Slurpee machines, filling them with tequila and turning the entire college-age population of a major American city loose on them. The results were expected and consistent; South Street looked like the Gaza Strip for days afterward. Not even the Philly cab drivers could get through that mess.
Today I’m sitting at home with a cold, my tequila days long since past. NyQuil, however, may be a different matter ….
Oh yeah, here’s the rest of that scene:
“It’s only wafer thin.”