So, Lorraine Pascale hasn't responded to my card, her agent won't let me speak to her on the phone to invite her on a date, and that cake I baked (which wasn't easy, you liar) for her will have to be eaten by me and me alone as I spend Valentine's Day evening watching the new series of Coach Trip, sobbing uncontrollably with a face covered in strawberries and cream.
Valentine's Day is as about as much fun as being locked up in a cold, dark cell waiting to have your head removed from your body by an axe-wielding maniac - which, incidentally, is what happened to Bishop Valentine, who got in a spot of bother for marrying 12-year-olds (as in conducting the ceremonies, not actually… you sickos).
