Ahh... February. The best time of year, in my estimation. The weather causes your nether parts to retreat, ninja-like, into your inner recesses (um, I guess that's kind of gender specific... apologies for any unfortunate images that might've conjured.) Football is put to rest, puncuated by the flatulent sputter that is the Pro Bowl. After the first weekend, the sporting highlight of the month is the Daytona 500--a bizarre event (even for NASCAR) which places its most important and high profile race at the beginning of its season. Wha? Huh?
At least this year, we've been blessed by quality TV to watch. Right? Am I right or am I right? I mean, Paradise Hotel 2 is about as good as it's gonna get, people. Gather the whole family, savor the moment.
February truly is a magical time.
And, what better way to celebrate this sink hole of a month than to guilt trip the coupled-up men of society, while simultaneously remind the single folks just how lonely they are. Hey, I know, let's plop Valentine's Day on the calendar. Thanks Hallmark... fuck you very much.
I'm, uh, not a fan of Valentine's Day. So, it should surprise no one that my least favorite genre of advertisement are the diamond ads that litter the airwaves this time of year. Jared, Shaw's, Kay... Satan hath spawned you. This entire group earns a Lifetime Achievement of Suck award for their bore-a-hole-in-your cranium nature of the jingles and the vapid, guilt-driven messaging.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go to the mall... M'lady requires a token of my undying love and affection.
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