Valentines Day is Chocolate Covered Bullshit

To be crystal clear, we’re talking about second rate imitation chocolate that tastes like wax and resembles nothing remotely similar to the devine cocoa product from Heaven above… or even Hershey, Pennsylvania.

So, why exactly is Valentines Day the equivalent of fake chocolate that tastes more like a diarrhea brown colored crayon?

Let’s start with… you’re only invited to participate if the planets line up in an anatomically correct heart shape where the left ventricle is positioned directly over the North Star or you happen to be someone’s current love interest.

Otherwise, you’re gonna have to sit this one out, because Valentines Day is a couples only celebration.

Unfortunately, this retail industry created 3-ring circus-of-a-holiday is responsible for countless generations of young ladies feeling inferior and isolated – every 365 days… or planet rotations around the sun.

Society has deemed February 14th – Judgement Day, where ones worthiness is rated based on the degree of materialistic affection she draws.

Receiving the following gifts will earn you a WINNING cupids day!

*A dozen long stemmed red roses

*Chocolates in a HEART SHAPED box bigger than your head

The following presents will get you… FIRST RUNNER UP… which is pretty much a fail.

You shall retain the role of career bridesmaid.

*A half dozen long stemmed roses or roses that aren’t blood red scarlet – the very same shade that pumps through the cardiac muscle and supposedly rules emotions.

News flash- The heart muscle keeps your sorry ass alive by circulating nutrients and oxygen to the body and has nothing to do with emotions. The heart is no more responsible for your IQ or SAT scores.

Finishing up in the loser gift category are things like…

*HEART SHAPED boxes imprinted with cartoon graphics or candy bars straight from the vending machine.

*Flowers that aren’t roses.

Recipients of cheesy carnations are about as desirable as a female Bigfoot with a bad case of the mange. Carnations are the epitome of the flower world and their only place is at funerals.

I’m sorry but I don’t make the rules. See page 13 in the Valentine’s Day for Dummies handbook.

The rules were established by greedy retailers who made the societal sheep drink cherry Kool aid out of heart shaped crazy straws until their brains imploded and they succumbed to all that is heart shaped, nonsensical and overpriced.

Exercise caution when gifting jewelry, as it’s risky and can be a double edged sword.

Plainly stated, if you’re in a serious relationship and you’re not gifting her an engagement ring… you’re fucked. When you reach a certain age and point in your relationship, anything that’s not the coveted 14 kt gold circle promising your undying love is an automatic fail. You might as well wrap a box of donkey poop, because that’s all you’re going to get credit for. Plus, this will save you a butt load of money.

Know this gentlemen. I speak the truth.

I’m also very sorry about this. Society can be a real pain in ass when it comes to creating bullshit expectations.

Let’s think logically for a moment.

Pass the talking stick to the brain.

What if… we designate a special day when couples celebrate their sappy love for one another like perhaps the day they intentionally made that commitment.

Their anniversary.

This would eliminate the need to drag everyone else who’s not tethered to a ball and chain through Valentines cow manure – putting an end to the annual bloody massacre of ladies by drunk cupids playing GI Joe with pink and red polka dotted AK 47’s.

I, for one think Valentine’s Day bites.

Conditions are perfect for boys and men everywhere to fuck up.

The very best they can hope for is to maintain their current standing and not clinch a lifelong spot in the Valentines Hall of Shame.

One stupid day should not define a relationship.

Seriously ladies, if you need a man bearing materialistic overpriced gifts like flowers and candy to complete you or make you feel happy and loved… you’re screwed.

Not-so-common sense strongly suggests that we never rely on others for our own happiness and/or fulfillment.

Happiness comes from within. It’s not something another person presents you in a vase or giant heart shaped box.

Valentines Day sucks rotten eggs, and not the Cadbury kind.

It would be different if the overall theme of Valentine’s Day was to simply celebrate LOVE.

Not couples love, but love of family, love of friends, love for humanity, love for all creatures large and small.

Expressing universal and unconditional love has the added benefit of making the giver feel warm and fuzzy, simply because it feels right.

If you absolutely yearn for the warm physical presence of another, I highly recommend bringing a dog or cat into your life.

Dogs happen to be the only creature on Earth who display the ability to unconditionally love someone more than they love themselves.

You can’t beat the love of a dog.

Dogs rock.

Happy Hearts Day to everyone… single, married and those aspiring to die the happy-but-mad cat collecting lady.

 

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Dunkin WHAT??

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My Real Life Trip to Dunkin DONUTS-  OUT OF hot chocolate, munchkins and vanilla frosted DONUTS.
This isn’t the first time.
The last time they were out of DONUTS.
By DONUTS, I mean ALL DONUTS.
Not a single DONUT in Dunkin DONUTS.

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If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess it was government run.
Everyone knows the government holds all records for least efficiently run everything.

Possible Reasons Dunkin ran out of DONUTS…

*The donut maker guy got caught up in a marathon game of Candy Crush. (Understandable)

*The employees had the munchies.

*Cheech and Chong just left the drive thru.

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* The time-to-make-the-donuts guy overslept or died.

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*Bigfoot got wasted with Jeff Spicoli from Fast Times at Ridgemont High and they broke in and stole all the donut mix.

*Wilford Bradley bought all of the donuts to save YOUR soul from dia-beat-us.

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*A prankster broke in to DD and drew pictures of donuts on the employees  glasses, so it looked like they had an excess of donuts.

*Somebody fed the police department marijuana  pizza, so they needed extra donuts to keep our city safe.

*DD is run by incompetent teenagers and this is just a preview of the end of the world as we know it, and possibly a cure for dia-beat-us.

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PMS; Prepare to Meet Satan…

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Signs that you may have PMS.

* You can toast marshmallows with your breath.

*Your default response to EVERYTHING is… fuckoff and die.

*Your secret chocolate stash looks like it was ransacked by Bigfoot, except it was actually you.

*Everyone in the house including the dog are wearing crucifix’s.

*The snowman is reduced to a puddle when you walk by.

*Your only emotion is RageSobLaugh simultaneously.

*You roll Prozac in chocolate, because you’re desperate.

*You consider slitting a biker dudes neck with your hang nail because he’s in your way, but you spare him when you remember there’s no chocolate in the Big House.

(To be continued… in 28ish days.)

PMS

Chocolate ala’ vomit

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When I posted the Candy-ALL-Day food pyramid, I was NOT referring to the DOG.

Sigh…

Unfortunately, he takes after me when it comes to being a chocoholic.

Shit.

 Not to mention vomit… in the flavor chocolate.

Lots of it.

Bakers chocolate (that’s the worse kind)

We don’t do anything half-assed.

He grabbed it off the kitchen table. Evidently. (as opposed to me serving it to him in a swanky crystal dish)

He has the agility of a cat and the perseverance of a gargantua with PMS.

Kinda like me, except for the agility part. (even though I totally STUCK a cartwheel the other day)

Good news- I’m no longer limping.

Now it’s the dogs turn to be Fuck-up of the Day.

And so he is…

Signs that you might have PMS

Signs that you may have PMS.

* You can toast marshmallows with your breath.

*Your default response to EVERYTHING is… fuckoff and die.

*Your secret chocolate stash looks like it was ransacked by Bigfoot except it was actually you.

*Everyone in the house are wearing crucifix’s… including the dog.

*The snowman is reduced to a puddle when you walk by.

*Your only emotion is RageSobLaugh simultaneously.

*You roll your morning Prozac in chocolate because you’re desperate.

*You consider slashing a biker dudes neck with your hang nail because he’s in your way, but you spare him when you remember there’s no chocolate in the Big House.

(To be continued… in 28ish days.)

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