Everyone in this town is insane.
I’m begging you all, and I can’t believe I’m actually typing these words on my keyboard: Please do not self-immolate yourself at the Valentine’s Day Lover’s Ball.
I’ve been reading this blog since its start last year, and I promised myself I wouldn’t get involved in the lunacy that was sure to follow. I finally caved last week when my girlfriend unknowingly admitted to cheating on me in her last post. Then I read the comments following the Event: Byron City Republican Caucus / Lovers Ball post, and couldn’t help but intervene again.
Now I don’t think the people who threatened to do this are really serious, especially since one thinks she can do it by covering herself with enough hairspray and standing over a scented candle. But I still feel the need to step in and tell people to take a deep, giant breath. Tibetan monks doing it to protest an oppressive foreign power is one thing. Heartbroken girls doing it to get attention, and political wingnuts doing it because they think Obama is a secret communist is another.
I won’t be there for the dance, but I will be there for the caucus, so please, don’t light yourselves on fire. Just…don’t. And Tiffany, please stop emailing my family telling them I have erectile dysfunction, sending your newest “date” over to my place to “borrow some eggs” without his shirt on, and harassing any girls I just happen to talk to by painting threatening notes on their car windows in lipstick while they are shopping.
Sigh…I need to move to Florida.