At least I wasn’t won over by furry, muppet-like lingerie
Confession: I’d like to pass this off as one of the chocolates I got for Valentine’s Day this year. But it’s not, because I am weak, because I am a stereotypical lover of chocolate, and, predictably, because the ones I got from Valentine’s Day are long gone. I mean, have you looked at this thing? Because I cannot help myself, I’m not even allowed to be alone in a room with a chocolate from Gearharts. My parole officer said so.
Another confession: I don’t really care about Valentine’s Day, I’ve known way too many people who take it way too seriously, and I don’t really observe it.
Another *another* confession: Y Chrome got me chocolates anyway, and I was psyched. And then, because I had President’s Day—the day after Valentine’s day—off, I was feeling nice and relaxed and unconcerned about the 500 dishes bound to accumulate by making real food and we decided to make a really nice dinner. And then we lit some candles for the table. And we drank a bottle of wine. Do you know what this means? I was totally duped into celebrating Valentine’s Day. By myself. I was duped by myself. And it was awesome.
And now back to your regularly scheduled curmudgeonly programming.