Another Monday in South Hill means another night at the Cracker Barrel.  While foraging through the old country store, en route to country ham and grits, I am reminded by the overwhelming piles of red and pink animals that the anniversary of Valentinus' beheading is coming up.

He did some decent stuff before being sentenced to death--and was only beheaded because clubs and stones didn't succeed at first--but why women go nuts over it is beyond me.  There are Elvis impersonators in Vegas that do better work.  I'll admit, it's important that the first, the trend setter, is properly credited and glorified.

Unfortunately, there's no convincing women that the day can be overlooked.  We have to celebrate, and we have to do it better than everyone else.  Otherwise, we're terrible cold-hearted people.  To stop such slander, I'm going to offer some advice--which should probably be followed by no one.

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