This is not another Valentines Day blog; not because I'm against the holiday, but because I think there's another, more important holiday that calls February home. Yes, of course, Black History month, but I'm talking about a lesser-known holiday with a similar spirit to V-day: F Day. Actually, F Month. February is the internationally recognized Friendship Month. Did you know that? I'm not making this up. Evidently Hallmark and The Rose Mafia are trying to keep you ignorant. Don't let them. Friendship is the mighty cactus to lovers' fickle rose.

To put it in technical terms: Your friends are the tits. Merci, danka shein, gracias and asante, Dear International Community for giving us 28 full days for buddy recognition.

So take advantage of it. When was the last time you told your friend, "thank you, man, thank you for being who you are. Thank you for helping me move out of that five floor walk up, thank you for not having sex with me and thank you for sticking up for me in 4th grade when Bobby McIntosh tried to steal my Gameboy and lip balm."

I'm not saying we never thank our mates, but it's often the unnoticed grease that help keep us moving. So, big friggin' deal Valentines Day, with your withering rose petals, champagne hot tubs and penis shaped chocolates. The real heroes emerge on February 15th, when pals take pals to an STD clinic, console a gal after a lover's spat or remind a guy that his girlfriend is an amazing woman.

Yes, friendship is that rugged organism-- that cactus --that can absorb the storm, survive without constant care and yet keeps blooming. It might not always have the fireworks of a deep kiss or triple orgasm, but it makes all those things that much better.
Somehow, knowing that in your back pocket -- between your condoms and breath mints -- are your dear friends, rooting you on.