G' (Valentine's) Day Mates

I keep hearing this radio commercial urging guys to take their sweethearts to the Outback Steakhouse for Valentine's Day dinner.

If I actually had a boyfriend, and he actually took me to the Outback for Valentine's Day, I'm really not sure what I'd do.

Part of me would be insulted he'd dare take me to a cheesey-ass chain steakhouse for the Big Romantic (fake) Holiday.

But part of me would be like, "Well...Bloomin' Onion. Okay."

Nothing says I love you like a bowling-ball sized onion dunked in batter and deep-fried, you know?"

But I'm also not really like other girls.

Which is probably why I'm single. All the girls with the good sense to throw a hissy over and Outback Valentine's Day probably won't be home eating Easy Mac with bacon bits and talking to their cats on the dreaded night.

Speaking of the cats, I'm violently resisting the urge to mention them more than once weekly in this space, because it's pathetic, and I can't be cat lady.

(Seriously though, Butters is getting really fat. I've only had them a month, and she is now the size of like, two Bloomin' Onions. Great, now I'm picturing her all fried and edible, so I clearly must go, as am losing mind.)