The Roses

So it's finally Valentine's day, one day in the year which will be responsible for the end of year statistics as in births. This is one day which sets the economy booming in an otherwise uneventful month. February is a very insecure month, it doesn't even have it's days set. But there's a Lovers' Day bang in the middle of it, so that makes it a little bit sweeter. I have been driving around as I usually do on a Saturday morning, buying mundane things like cat food, since my cats have suddenly acquired a big appetite. And I've seen so many silly things. A blue rose? Pardon, c'est trop trop passe`. If I were a man I would be genuinely upset to be given a blue rose, suck a fake thing. A red rose? Well maybe that's better. But a "Say it with Roses"? Say what exactly? And why do roses, come February the 14th. start talking? They were so quiet at the florists, at which I didn't stop for roses. Speechless flowers, well probably speechless because me, the big diva made an entrance. Probably they started speculating between themselves the minute I, the big diva made an exit. Yeah right. I'm not trying to be queer, I like flowers, and I like roses but I don't like anything fake. As in designer watches and bags, I want designer flowers. But then again man-made roses are so ugly. I want the natural things, for once, I go au naturel when it comes to these beautiful red roses. a family member, whose name I will not divulge because it would ruin his already stingy reputation, has been mean enough to buy his belle a plastic rose from Tal-Lira and, as if that weren't bad enough, the fake rose somehow changes from a rose into a plastic thong! And he's banking on having made a brilliant find as a pressie. If it were me on the receiving end, I'd put the thong to good use and choke him. Because men like these deserve capital punishment anyway.