Scott rummaged around in his long-abandoned blog for this inspirational Valentine which is, I think you’ll agree, timeless:

“The day every single, available, looking, scouting the territory, exploring your options, on the market, in the market, playing the field, non-committed, searching (whatever you choose to call yourself) person dreads…is here. Valentine’s Day has returned. Bringing withering flowers, deflated balloons, frilly cards and the shattered self worth of the un-attached with it.

Is there another holiday as cruel as this one? Christmas says that if you are alone, we will love you. Thanksgiving says that if you are alone, we will share with you. News Years says that if you are alone, we’ll get snockered with you. But Valentine’s Day says that if you are alone, hide…because we will flaunt our relationships in front of you, see your pain and then pity you for a brief second between our butt naked, hand in hand, slow-motion trots through fields of sunflowers.

At first, I thought I hated the questions the most…”Who is your Valentine?”, “What did you get your Valentine?”…then I thought it was the look you get after you answer the question. That “awwww” look. You know the one…where their head tilts like a dog when it hears a high pitched noise. But, I soon realized it was the blind optimism they spout afterwards that makes my teeth grit, my ears turn red, and my trigger finger twitch. “Well…don’t you worry. There’s a woman out there for you.” Yeah, she’s out there. She’s washed up on a beach in Mexico after an all night Tequila party gone sour…but hey she’s out there!

Do me a favor, take your unsolicited advice and your positive outlook, stick’em on the end of Cupid’s arrow and shove the whole thing right up your ass-orted box of chocolates.

Today, as the army of “I heart you” Teddy Bears comes marching down the hall, all I can think of is why isn’t there an “Ain’t Gettin’ None” Day? You know, a little day (say in mid-March…right after the Madness wears off) set aside just for those who aren’t bumping nasties. It would be a national holiday for the single person (or the relationship challenged). We could have special songs, a mascot and traditions like taking pot shots at the “dreamy” couple as they’re lip-locked in the Romance Classics aisle at Blockbuster.

Until that day arrives, I will have to be content with my own Valentine’s Day ritual. I walk around the office after closing and pop all the heart shaped balloons and eat the candy. Hey, I’m single…what else do I have to do tonight?”

Upon re-reading Scott’s essay, I thought to myself (because it’s almost impossible to think to anyone else), if only there were some kind of online answer to Scott’s delimma…

Bob Hague is one of a hardy Learfielders that live on the tundra of Wisconsin. And the cold just don’t bother these men and woman. Bob reports the temp was -16 this morning (wind chill about -30). Perfect for a little science experiment. He heated water in the microwave and tossed it into the air. Some of the water immediately turned to ice crystals, the rest to steam; none of it made it to the ground.

A more frightening testament to the bone-chilling cold in mid-Missouri is this image of me in my long underpants. If some tipsy cheerleader is ever going to hit on me and try to take (sound of Barb laughing) me home… tonight is the night.

Renaissance man and all-around good guy Jeff Bassinson is 50 years old today .

My friend (and your pet’s “best” friend) Everett, somehow manages to fit scouting into his busy life. I stole the image above from his blog and direct you there for some context. But this photo just spoke to me on some Monty Python level.