Valentine’s Day is a Hallmark conspiracy…

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I’ve been… out of radio contact. Off the reservation, if you will.

Too much of my business has been shitty-oh-dear-shitty-oh-my. However, I’ve actually been able to keep my shitty-shit-shit-shit corked tight. A little bit of resignation and calm go a long way.

Hallmark, while a nice place to shop… very Laura Ashley, smelly and such… is still a dollars and cents conspiracy. That being said, I have a fondness for Valentine’s Day. I get to focus on my partner, loved ones, and… this is the best… my daughter. I so much enjoy days like Valentine’s and Mother’s Day… Birthdays… it’s so much more fulfilling celebrating and courting them instead of Arbor Day, when all we give a thought about is a tree. If you have a tree in your life that is more than just flora, I apologize. 

It is easy to be a good parent when your child is so wonderful. It’s hard to keep a lock down when they’re around if there’s monkey business up in the head. But I do it… at least as best as I can. 

I will see her tomorrow. She will be happy to discover the crochet needles and bright yarn I bought her today… I will make her a special dinner. We will watch ‘The Boxtrolls’, and we will delight in each others company. 

My best childhood memories…my BEST… are of spending time with my father. He was the one who took me out and showed me a good time, with a smile a mile wide. My mother would gently sing me to sleep, and change my wet sheets, which was loving, respectful, and oh so needed. 

I wet the bed… a lot. This is decades ago. Fort five… how that happened, I don’t know. Now I’m on ear-hair watch. 

Wetting the bed is said to be all too common amongst the young recipients of sexual abuse. Hot, wet, and a much too pisser of a wake up call. Oh well… today is beautiful… global warming is okay in my book this Friday the 13th… and I am enjoying my time in the sun. Literally and figuratively. 

Enjoy! Happy V, and love your loves. 

By the way… Albertsons down the street has butterflied steak in clear, heart shaped boxes…. which is unfortunate. They look like vaginas, and my laughing to my knees in the store was an explosion of the kind of hilarity we can all use in life. 

Bing! 

Dean Moberly

Trusted Keeper

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