JACI STEPHEN
MY FUNNY VALENTINE Jaci is visited by the ghosts of lovers past …
IMAGE: WALTER VAN DYK
L
ove is in the hair. No, you didn’t read that wrong. The hair. If there’s one thing I cannot abide about lovers, it’s the way they toss their hair in my face, dispersing their dandruff and nits into my freshly poured pinot grigio. They sit on bar stools, flirting with their lustrous curls while facing their beloved, oblivious to those of us sitting behind them choking on the follicle debris they inconsiderately throw our way. I feel about Valentine’s Day the same way Scrooge did about Christmas. I cry “Humbug!” when I see the exploitation in the cards, tacky gifts, and overpriced flowers. Humbug to the people who, apart from this one day of the year, argue like crazy. Humbug to false emotion fuelled by commercialism and sentimentality. But back to the hair tossers and their ilk. I’m all for people being in love and, who can deny it, the world is a better place when love dominates over hate, peace over violence. What I can’t bear are people who rub our noses in their alleged joy. Is it really necessary to prove your affection by shoving your tongue down someone’s throat while people are trying to eat (eat food, that is, as opposed to human flesh)? Is it appropriate to grope someone like a topiarist masterminding a hedge, when others are just trying to get to the ice bucket? Do you really have to metaphorically scream: “I’m getting it and you’re not!” Yes, I know. I’ve got the point.
who can still remember where his toolbox is and is still adept at using it? And so, to the Valentines Yet to Come. Who knows what horrors await, but I’m running out of continents trying to find out. I’m still vaguely hopeful, but in the meantime, keep your hair out of my wine.
The ones who got away
1
Simon Cowell. If only I’d been 12 inches taller. And 50lb thinner.
Above: Jaci’s still hopeful – but in the meantime, irritating lovers should stay out of her way and get a room.
Where Scrooge was visited by the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come, my “dreams” should also be teaching me lessons about how I might change my approach to this occasion that so many others seem to enjoy. It just doesn’t work for me, though. The Ghost of Valentines Past: that would be the men who never bought me anything, cleaned out my bank account, and left me for nurses. The Ghost of Valentines Present: that’s practically a romantic wasteland. They’re all too old, too gay or too uninterested. Surely one of you young lads has a straight, rich, widowed uncle,
2
Rudy’s pig. He wanted me. I knew it from the start.
3
George Clooney. If only I’d been 24 inches taller. And 100lb thinner.
4
Call me Psychic Jaci, these guys were never gonna work.
5
Maybe this is the bar for me in 2016.
I SIT THROUGH THE OSCAR CONTENDERS SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO It’s Oscars time again on February 28, and for those who can’t be bothered to sit through the movies (and you really don’t need to this year, trust me), here is my personal summary of the main contenders (and a couple of others just for the hell of it). CAROL Two chain-smoking lesbians in hats
fall in love over a train set in 1950s New York. THE REVENANT Leonardo di Caprio has fight with bear and spends what feels like the next six weeks grunting. INFINITELY POLAR BEAR Mark Ruffalo does not have a fight with a polar bear but still spends an
DIGITAL EDITION
inordinate of time grunting. BRIDGE OF SPIES Two guys, who may or may not be spies, are swapped on a bridge. End of. LADY IN THE VAN Unwashed lady who lives in a van dies. Eventually. Take lots of popcorn.
BROOKLYN Girl in hat (not a lesbian) falls in love with two men, in Ireland and New York. Second favorite. STEVE JOBS Unwashed genius falls in love with a computer, has fights with hairy humans, but makes a ton of dough while grunting. Has the lot. Easily my favorite.
7