my bloody valentine’s day massacre

no, i didn’t have a dyke drama style valentine’s day.  neither did my period start.  i did, however, see these … so romantic … red rose, pink champagne and raw meat in the shape of a heart.

boerewors

fillet

so … how was your valentine’s day?  commercial?  lonely?  did anyone give you a fluffy pink hippo, a plastic rose, chocolates in amusing shapes?  a nice lump of raw flesh?

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romance

INcoming …

*splat*

… and i fear that strawberry hit you square in the t-shirt – but whatever colour it is, you probably have three more, so you might as well resign yourself to today’s one turning into a jackson pollock.

and i am on the other side of the screen grinning at you, because no matter what happens, one day things will be smoother and you will not only be forgiven for being your true self, you’ll be honoured for it.

you’re the first person i have ever had the impulse to apply the word “feisty” to, just so you know – but that it’s only one of so many words that spring to mind – and the first one there is always, always “love.”