10 THINGS NOT TO DO IN FEBRUARY

Or, pray tell, why not?

Sherlock Tidpit is a remarkable rumpus-room monitor, and even more impressive, he is a rule-of-thumb rapscallion with a very skewed assessment of reality, which among other things makes him a very valuable vestigial remnant in the Court of the Quipping Queen.

The second month of the Gregorian calendar owes its name to the Latin term, "Februa", a feast of purification and offerings.

So needless to say, this is a momentous occasion for cleaning one's closet, cleaning one's colon, or cleaning one's two front teeth.

As far as making offerings to appease the gods, goddesses or grand juries are concerned - try smiling. If that doesn't work, look for the nearest sacrificial scapegoat available.

Better yet, just avoid doing the following fruitless things this month.

1. Keep the company of Piscean personalities. They're fishy folk at the best of times, not to mention dependent, depressive, emotional, escapist, self-pitying, temperamental, and can lose touch with reality faster than you can shake a stick. (Find new playmates!)

2. Become Casanova, Cupid, or Romeo. Perhaps send a box of cheap chocolates or a sentimental card to a lovelorn lollypop if you must; otherwise save your valuable romantic intentions for a wonder-wench who really gives a sweet patootie!

3. Peek in hidey-holes for groundhogs. Frankly, you've got more on the ball than you give yourself credit. So hold your horses, count your lucky stars, and keep your eyes open for the first blossom of spring. On second thought, practice your green thumbing techniques - maybe you'll land a job in the Jolly Green Giant factory!

4. Talk to a three-legged beaver...well any beaver as a matter of fact. If you must, just admire the critter that graces the back of a five-cent Canadian coin. The last thing this blessed world needs is another "eager beaver" like you for pity's sake!

5. Feel sorry for "lassitudarians". They're the lazybone, lazyboot, or lazy-leg types who think nothing of grazing in your green pasture, accepting your hospitality for a month, or eating you out of house and home. (No house-guests ...not even your best friend, the hottie-next-door or your in-laws!)

6. Acquire a panting pooch to honor the "Year of the Dog". Remember what John Sparrow once said, "That indefatigable and unsavoury engine of pollution, the dog." (Perhaps that's why God invented man: the super-duper pooper-scooper!)

7. Masticate on wads of chewing gum. If you must flap your gums, at least chat up a chin-wagger! They offer nothing but trivial talk and don't leave a mess behind thank goodness.

8. Believe the weather forecasts. It's a pointless pursuit that could ruin your golf game, destroy your faith in humanity, or leave you in a complete state of panic. Wringing people's necks has never been your strong suit. Try something else!

9. Learn pig-Latin. Frankly, there are far too many quirky characters running about these days in the barnyard of life. Find some other thingummy doodah to do!

10. Press your point with legume-lovers - be they clover-kickers, carrot-crunchers, or turnip-snaggers. Remember, exercising your sentimental passion for vegetable fashion is hardly going to put you first in line at the supermarket check-out counter!

Sherlock Tidpit finds solace in practicing the little known art of myomancy (a kind of divination by means of mice), which keeps both cats and quidnuncs quite contented in the Court of The Quipping Queen and a curious cosmic place called The Wordorium.