I dread Valentine's Day.
Mostly, it's a function of having been involved (before I met my Lovely and Brilliant Wife) with women who used holidays as a bludgeon and a lever. For me, Valentine's Day has always been a time of misogynistic self-flagellation.
Since I married Christina, I've been steadily in recovery, and I no longer approach February 14 with the same steer-in-the-slaughterhouse feeling I used to. Still, I'm a lousy gift-shopper, and because Christina's birthday is not too long before V-Day (which in turn isn't long enough after our anniversary), I'm usually caught with my pants down. (Please stifle the obvious cheap shots at that.)
So I hope she won't take it too personally that I wallowed in the vindictiveness of these Valentine cards written for exes. I especially liked these:
Roses are red,
They come by the trainful.
I hope your death
Is slow and painful.
You won't take my calls,
You call me a toady.
Guess I'll have to impress you,
Like I impressed Jody.
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art in truth more like a Summer's Eve.
For thou art such a tremendous douchebag.
On this Valentine's Day,
My dear ex-wife,
Be glad that I'm not
An NFL star with a knife.
Though you left me alone,
I won't write, I won't phone;
I'm reluctantly gonna move on.
You should know, I suppose,
I put your nude photos,
At www.ellen.com.
How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways... um... none!
Look out your window
On a moonlit lovers' eve,
No, this window over here.
Hi. It's me.
Now wave,
'Cause stalking is a lonely, lonely business,
And a little feedback goes a long way.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
I'm not getting laid.
Can I come back to you?
There are also a few even crueler ones here. H/T to Miss Cellania, who is enough to make the bitterest misogynist open an account at a florist shop. I don't understand why this woman is single. BTW, did I mention I have an unmarried brother...?
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