February 14th. A day of love, a day of passion, a day of sexual frustration. The biggest day of the year for people who sell flowers, chocolate, pink and red cards so bright they make your eyes water even when you’re not looking at them. And also a big day for bars, where people order large quantities of beer, multiple shots of Jagermeister, the occasional glass of water to make sure there’s more than alcohol draining from their systems when they urinate. Yep, there are people who like to celebrate with their loved ones and there are people who want to jump up on tables and cry out, “Fuck Valentine’s Day!”
So I started thinking about it: is one really the loneliest number? Sure, if you’ve got two of something, they can keep each other company. If you’ve got none, then there’s nothing to feel lonely. But isn’t that a limited conception of “one”? I mean, if you’ve got a group of 37,145,982 people, that’s one group. Does that mean the group is lonely? But if another person joins the crowd and it swells to 37,145,983, then everyone’s happy and no longer lonely. Except now there’s one group of… ah, forget it. Fuck Valentine’s Day!
(Aside from all that, if you’re reading this blog entry and want some Shawn love, I’ve got enough to share with everyone. Just don’t expect any flowers.)
