By Andrew Blumetti
I love you all.
Seriously. Well, not the whole “like-like” school of brilliance dolled out by the Winnie Cooper-ed mind of Kevin Arnold, but you all who read, follow, and support my blog really are the bee’s knees. I sincerely appreciate and thank anyone who’s taken time to read, enjoy, or roll their eyes at the cornball absurdity that fills this page on a relatively frequent basis.
Ok, enough of this gooey shhhh….ow of emotion.* Let’s get down to brass tacks here.
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Before we continue, a favor first— If you reside in the Northeast or Mid-Atlantic portion of the United States, please do me a solid- take a second and go to your window and look outside. I’ll wait.
Back yet?
Ok, I’ll wait more.
How about now?
Good.
See the Everest-high mountains of white stuff? There’s more snow out there than in a used CD bin.
Screw you, Blumes.
Yeah, this brutal winter is crawling by with all the lightning-quick speed of Artie Lange’s metabolism, but believe you me fellow snowed-in’s, as hard as it seems to believe, our ‘ol pal spring will be here soon, and before you know it, you’ll be itchy, watery-eyed, and sneezing your head off like the Queen of Hearts was demanding it.
But hey, even in two feet of snow, life would be nothing without small victories- my birthday is only 10 days away, pitchers and catchers are about to embark to Florida and Arizona for Spring Training, The Walking Dead has returned in all of its brain-munching glory, the Winter Olympics are running full steam, and the new Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition should show up on my doorstep anyday to make me feel pretty awkward in front of my mailman. February is truly the month that keeps on giving.
“This cover needs more Kate Upton”- Kate Upton, Blumes
Of course mid-February ain’t all AMC-zombies and Abe Lincoln’s birthday cake. Even if you’re still frostbitten from endless shoveling, you’ll still be sleeping on the couch if you forget the holiday that’s redder than Russia, circa 1960…
Conversation hearts? Fat baby Cupid? All-day Julia Roberts movie marathons? A remarkably thinner wallet? Make no mistake, make-no-mistakers, Saint Valentine is here with a bright red vengeance and he’s ready to kick yo keister up and down the snowy block.
For some of you, it’s a chance to take out a much-needed second mortgage for a dozen stupid red roses, boxes of mystery heart chocolates, and giant teddy bears the size of Delaware. For others, it’s an opportunity to throw Adele on repeat, curse the Hallmark holiday for shoving your blatant singledom in your face, and chow down on your emergency stash of Ring Dings while you feverishly refresh your OkCupid profile for new messages till the clock eventually hits midnight and February 15th comes to save the day.
“This guy’s coming with me in the carpool lane! I’ll just tell them it’s Robin Williams!”
That’s where I come in. Whether you’re single, taken, married, or a cyborg, I’m here to boomerang back all that amazing support and positivity to you on this Valentine’s Day, Twenty-fourteen. If it’s Friday and you’re in love, or maybe not so much, I want this day of hearts and crap to be your happiest and heartiest yet.
So, for a few short minutes, put that adorably plump Adele on hold, slam the flap on that box of uneaten Ring Dings, and pause those insufferable “Every Kiss Begins with Kay” commercials… Here’s my personal valentines to you rad readers- feel free to print and snip.
Happy V-Day.
Love, Blumes
(* If anyone recognizes this quote, I’ll come to your house, hug you, and make you a B+ dinner.)
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A Blumes With a View 