Thankyou Father Valentine!

So yesterday was Valentines day. Yesterday Rat introduced me to a really cool Norfolk custom, that of Father Valentine. No more feeling guilty for enjoying Valentines Day for me! I have found something that I get to do to some of you lovely, lovely friends of mine next year!

For those of us not born in Fen country (there were Wolds where I’m from dammit!) I should explain the Father Valentine thing.
The doorbell is rung by Father Valentine who then mysteriously dissappears leaving random bizarre gifts in his wake. This year, I suspect because Rat wanted to initiate me into her weird-ass Norfolk ways, me and My Gentleman Friend got a whole shoebox full of weirdness (think stocking fillers with a wacky sense of humour), chocolates, gum that reminded us that everytime we masturbate God kills a kitten, light switch stickers and a book on strange Japanese kids toys!

Oh yes next year there will be doorbells ringing across Lancaster. I have my plans.

Yeah, and when the door is opened you’re supposed to shout ‘Thankyou Father Valentine’ into the empty air!

In other news, apart from geting really tired every so often I’m feeling a lot better. As everyone who gazed into my gob (sorry Princess Lex!) this lunchtime can probably testify to…oh honestly guys!

Right, I’m going back to decorating the lesbian loo with porn.

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