Happy Valentine's Day. Yes, I know Valentine's Day is just a commercial invention aided and abetted by the greeting card, restaurant, flower growing and chocolate industries to squeeze that extra bit of cash out of us at a time of year when we're still gazing blankly at our credit card statements wondering how the hell we managed to spend the GDP of a small American country on booze, dinners and by-now-forgotten knick-knacks over December, but it could be worse. At least it's celebrating something good. Something warm and fuzzy, something that makes you feel like life's worth living even on the crappest days.I mean, we can thank our lucky stars that the haemorrhoid treatment industry hasn't cottoned on to this concept. "Pile on the happiness this Haemorroids Day! Proudly brought to you by Preparation H!"
But I digress.
The other reason for writing this blog today is that I have been stung into action by my friend Goatville Girl. While I have been consumed by wading through the sludge of getting back into work mode during January, Goatville Girl has been a veritable Terry Pratchett of blogging. By which I mean prolific, as opposed to being obsessed with turtles and wizards. Which reinforces by earlier belief that she is clever and funny and hard working. And not just bored with trying to come up ideas for breath mints. But don't believe me; see for yourself at www.middlegoat.blogspot.com.
So I now resolve to try harder. Which is a good resolution to have on Valentine's Day.
And that's what it's all about. In a Michael Caine way, rather than a Jude Law way.
