Love is in the air, or not, this weekend; I’ll be able to help with the latter. Hopefully it’s a long one for all, however, with President’s Day on Monday. Forget about the potential -18 degrees Celsius temperatures (come on people, let’s stop using Fahrenheit, it’s so unbecoming and idiotic), wrap up warm and get out of the yawning chasm of nihilism that has been 2016 so far, we’re better than this.
This is the first weekend in which David Bowie no longer exists (and now, also tragically, Alan Rickman); still a hard concept to process. As the great man said, “I know when to go out, and when to stay in”, might I suggest the former this weekend. I’m not giving you much chance to put on your red shoes and dance with these suggestions, and you might get the blues, but if you decide the stay in, and get things done, perhaps the strange ones in the dome can lend us a book we can read up alone.