Whether you want it or not, it’s here.
Happy VD, everyone.
Valentine’s Day is one of those special times of year that makes me wanna freakin’ puke.
Maybe my hard feelings stem from the hard, cold truth that I’m hopelessly single again this year, or maybe it’s that seeing people make out and exchange crappy sugar-coated, heart-shaped, milk chocolate, pink frosted ditties all day really chaps my tail.
Or maybe the root of my hatred lies in that time in kindergarten when yours truly received a valentine that read:
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
You look like a poo,
and you smell like one too.
On second thought, maybe that experience just inspired my fantastic sense of humor.
I’ve seen people on the roadside selling mylar balloons attached to Easter baskets of thrift-store teddy bears and last year’s chocolate all week.
Who buys this junk?
And, people, what’s with the roses?
Can’t we all be a little more original?
Just because people have exchanged roses on this day since it began doesn’t mean roses are the ONLY flower people enjoy receiving.
Other than roses, I think this holiday is all a big plot to get someone else fat and get oneself laid.
On VD, we go to dinner, we give chocolate, we bake cupcakes, we trade those chalky little hearts (which are the worst candies on earth, by the way), we buy the good wine and at the end of the night, we expect a little action.
Annual action in exchange for food makes us what? Food whores.
Getting fat and getting laid are not deplorable actions, but why does this chocolate-sex swap happen to fall a little more than a month after we all made these big promises not to be porkers this year?
It’s the economy, stupid.
In case you guys haven’t noticed, the economy usually bottoms out after the holidays.
Once upon a time, those five guys that all good conspiracy theorists swear control the world decided to make up some poopoo story about a saint and create a holiday to boost the flagging retail market every February.
Then, they decided it would also be cool if they could get some booty on the same day.
VOILA! VD was born.
Unfortunately, VD is also here to stay.
All you mushbuckets just get too darn gooey inside when you get a Valentine to let it die.
So, here are my words of wisdom for today, you poor saps: Between all the chocolate and action, don’t get the clap.