Especially if the guy you’re in love with is some psychotic Allah-loving jihad motherfucker.

Jill Courtney, 27, was “obsessed” with Hussan Kalache, who had promised to marry her if she carried out a “mission”, police said in a statement presented in court.

They said she had Kalache’s name and prison number tattooed “over various parts of her body,” and that he had wanted Courtney to “prove her love to him by undertaking a ‘mission’ before he would commit to marriage.”

Her mission was to blast a car bomb in Sydney’s nightclub district. Like Bali.

Hormones can make us do crazy things. Love clouds our judgment (honey, I’ve been there). But a car bomb? Jill, did you ever stop to think that maybe he wasn’t the guy for you?

I dare you to watch this clip about Bert Brady, and not feel a lump in your throat. I dare you to watch and and not ask yourself what you could be doing.

This is how Mr. Right and I want to end our lives. Here’s hoping you all find that one special person to spend eternity with.

Why weren’t cards like this around when I was single?

“It’s Valentine’s Day, so here’s a card with a heart inside,” it read. “I’d tell you whose it is, but the less you know, the better.“

Humour is a part of love. I’d rather make someone laugh than give them bad Hallmark poetry. It’s a niche market that is finally being recognized.

Another niche is cards for the people you’re shagging but have little romantic attachment to. Hearts and flowers wouldn’t apply so much as leather and lube, wouldn’t you agree?

Why did I never go into the greeting card industry?