valentine’s day is for the whales.

yesterday at lunch i was in a silly mood, and sometimes when i’m in a silly mood i like to make lists of things.

“hey, you know who’s welsh?” i said.


“tom jones.”

“yeah.  i was the one who told you that.”

“yup.  you know who else is welsh?”

“the super furry animals?”

“yes.  you know who else is welsh?”


“roald dahl.”



“i didn’t know that.”

“well, he is.  you know who else is welsh?”


“catherine zeta-jones.  you know who else is welsh?”


“i don’t know.”

“damn.  i thought you had another one.”

later, a song on the restaurant radio sounded familiar.  “who is this?” i said.

“i think it’s sade.”

“she kind of sucks, huh?”

“yeah.  i remember when that album came out.  everyone else thought it was awesome.”

“right?  everybody talked about how it was really sexy, but you know what?  it isn’t.”


“there’s a lot of stuff like that, huh?”


“stuff that everyone thinks is sexy, but it isn’t.”

“like what?”

“like kenny g.”

“people think kenny g is sexy?”

“i don’t know, but he’s not.”

“what about tom jones?”

“nope, not sexy.”

“barry white?”

“entertaining, but not sexy.  actually, i kind of like barry white.”

“yeah, he’s okay.”

“i mean, i probably wouldn’t buy an album, but it’d be okay if someone put one on at a party.  still not sexy, though.”


“flowers?  not sexy.  chocolates?  delicious!  not sexy.”

a few minutes later:

“ooh!  diamonds!  diamonds are definitely not sexy.”

and later:

“candles, though.  candles might be a little sexy.”

hey, i might be strange, but at least i’m a cheap date.