VD...just another excuse

to send a bullshit Hallmark card.

I am not big on Valentine's Day, except of course, if my husband were to forget about it. I dont care for all the hearts and flowers. I like the chocolates though, as most fat assed princesses do. You can give me all the chocolate you like. Hell, I don't care if it isn't in a heart shaped box. Throw me a Hershey bar and I will jump up in the air to retrieve it like a dog. Spare me the Hershey Kisses though. Unwrapping those little fuckers one at a time takes away from the chocolatey experience. I don't like stuffed animals. To me, they are clutter that will just gather dust over time. You wanna thrill me for Valentines Day? Gimme some lingerie. I love me some lingerie. Even the word is sexy...LAWN-jer-ray. Pardon moi! Voulez Voucous Chez Avec Moi? I don't even know what that means but the song Lady Marmalade always plays in my head when I talk lingerie. I like stuff with a lot of straps and hooks and ties and ribbons. You feel like you need to be unwrapped to get to the goodies. I like that.

Mostly, I dislike Valentines Day cards. Fuck you if you think that sending me a VD card is the way to show me you care. You should be sending me cards every single day of your life in worship of me. Not just on one particular day of the year when Hallmark says it is okay to tell someone that you love them today. Why? Shouldn't that be a daily thing? What happened to cards for no reason, Hm?

Of course, as I am typing this, I receive a huge bouquet of flowers from my husband who is out of town. This is acceptable to me because he is not around to swaddle me in some lingerie. Flowers will have to do. He wrote me something very heartfelt and sincere. The only reason I am not vomiting about it is because he generally writes heartfelt and sincere cards for no reason...or at least verbalizes these sentiments to me on a daily basis.

I remember our first Valentines Day together. He took me to a five star restaurant, you know, complete with violinists and white glove service? Me? I'm a McDonalds kind of girl. I thought the veal was soup and so I ate it with a spoon. There were three stems of asparagus shaped like roses. Yum. Then for dessert comes a chocolate tower. Truly. It was this big cylander shaped thingie that shot straight out from the plate. I had no idea how to eat it. I tapped on the hard shell outside and it wouldn't break. I tried to spoon out the innards but they wouldn't come out. Finally, in frustration, I leaned over the chocolate tower and put my mouth around it like I was sucking a large chocolate dick.

My husband and I were never apart from then on. He knew I was the girl for him.