Thanks to Kathryn and Anerje, I have been reminded of the Valentine Generator. Teenage boys being what they are, there is no doubt in my mind that had Guildford Dudley lived until Valentine’s Day, he would have utilized this handy device to send a touching greeting to his wife, who no doubt would have appreciated it greatly:
To my ravishing potato,
You are the prayer book of my close-stool. I want to bathe with you more than any cushion in the whole Thames.
The first time we waltzed, I felt stupendous in my elbow, and I was so elated that I could barely rush. I knew that we would weep together for eons.
Whenever you exclaim, it makes me ache intermittently and beat like a spacious privy chamber.
I will tingle with you madly until the Girl Guide biscuit crumbles and the heart-shaped pizza vanishes.
Godly Valentine’s Day!
Love, your humongous Protestant
[Note to anyone reading this post who happens to be married to me: Papa John’s delivers for a small fee.]