Tweethearts

No lack of love this week.  A few more Valentines from our tweethearts:

Sadly not in Van City, because this Tweetie Pie is most lovable.  Thank you @daubu!

If I was violently anti-Valentines, I would send you a pretty Valentine with hearts, and bows, and undying expressions of lub.

Understand your anti-Valentine sentiments and perhaps I should clarify my Valentine thoughts.  I don’t think we should wait until one day of the year to tell people that we love them and then shower them will silly gifts, because you feel it is expected.  I feel everyday should be Valentines Day in the sense that you tell people you love them everyday and when you buy them a gift it is because you see something special for them and want to surprise them, not because you feel you have to.

A Tweetheart to Kittyn from @gingerbeer:

My cabbage, my turnip, my radish, my Kittyn.  Like a shaken beer, my love for you fills me with joyous froth.  Do you not realize that if life were a cracker, you would be the cheese?  Let me melt you.  My love is like my back lawn.  It just grows and grows.  It will never be cut down.  My lolling tongue laments its lack of use, my lolly.  Sheep are no match to your willy ways, my lambkins.  Even though they are pretty good.  Especially the Dorsets, though their wool is not as fine as your average Merino.  But of course with you I could dispense with the gum boots.  If you were the weety-bix I would be the milk.  Let me soak into you slowly.  I have rent open my feelings so that, however rudely they may be expressed, I have been left nakedly nude of any pretense otherwise.  Let us thrust our outpouring with tweets no more, my magnificent.

Love Ginger

xxxxx

Loving the fact that the ginger has compared Kittyn to a barnyard animal.  That makes me smile this morning, especially after having to deal with her diva moments last night of “What do you mean I need to wear long johns and snowpants!!!  That’s not a Kittyn look!”  All I can say is dear God, I don’t know what she thinks going for a moonlit snowshoe means, but for me – ‘romance, snow, fresh mountain air, invigorating, magic, and dress warmly’.  So thinking of taking three dates for me this morning and leaving Kittyn behind.

Kittyn – you know I wouldn’t do that, but dress warmly and no whining unless you want I snowball planted on those plump, red lips of yours.