February 15, 2004
I know I'm bitter and cynical and bursting at the seams with raw, visceral hatred and acidic vitriol, and some of you might even think I'm psychotic after reading this, but Valentine's Day just makes me fucking sick! I hate the day. I hate it, hate it, FUCKING HATE IT! The day only serves to make those of us who are frustrated with and discouraged from dating and relationships, to further realize how inadequate we single folks are. The day continually reminds us of what we are already missing out on (namely a good piece of ass) and then rubs it in like a handful of salt in a fresh open wound. No other day could possibly be so vomit-inducing. It's like a good, swift square kick in the nuts to be exposed to Valentine's Day when you are hopelessly and eternally single.
The whole day is fucking pointless, anyway and it reeks strongly of such artifice. If you really love someone, you should demonstrate this love every day and in a genuine fashion, not just on some artificial day made up by greeting card companies and anyone else with commercial interests. Problem is, I don't have a relationship with anyone for whom such "love" can be expressed (in a romantic, intimate sort of way). The way things have gone for me, I don't expect this to ever happen (I won't go into details on my abysmally pitiful dating failures). So I say fuck Valentine's Day! May Cupid burn in hell!
Some people may think I should just ignore the day and go about my life and be at peace with myself, pretend the day doesn't exist. Well, dammit, it isn't quite that easy. I can't just ignore something when its presence is EVERYWHERE!!! I can hardly walk into any place of business without seeing the sickly displays of red hearts and all the pink teddy bears and other shit being peddled to the insecure masses, people who are pressured to present such tawdry gifts to their sweeties for fear they will be dumped (or not get any nookie) if they fail to do so otherwise. The booking of a "romantic" evening at some candlelit dining venue is a woefully artificial gesture at best, as is a box of chocolates, flowers, or-- God forbid-- pink teddy bears holding a cutesy little red plastic "I WUV U!" heart-shaped sign in its paws (just makes me want to drop kick the son of a bitch across the yard). At least I can take consolation in saving myself money and not buying into any of this putrid gut- wrenching SHIT year after year!
As a former member of and permanent outcast of the dating pool, I know how this wretched day brings about enormous pressure on a person to make a good impression on his or her sweetie. It's not like Christmas, where you know your family will still love you and your friends will still accept you if you don't offer a gift or offer a poorly chosen gift. (If your family rejects you then they're dysfunctional, and such friends would not be real friends). Valentine's Day, however, can often make or break even a good relationship (whatever the hell that is), and the fate of said relationship often hinges on the perceived value or the impression of the gift in question. I'm sure the high expectations of the day have brought on many breakups and fights, and when this happens I just LOVE to see it! Oh, the irony! How satisfying it is to go out on February 15th and see torn-up Valentine's Day cards laying in the street along with decapitated stuffed teddy bears sitting in the gutter stained shit-brown from the dirty water, and smashed, run-over heart-shaped chocolate boxes with tire tracks across them.
You know what I plan to do? Go to the store on February 15 and buy one of those goddamn bears or whatever sappy, syrupy-message-laden tripe they still have left over and not sold to some schmuck, for half price, and then put it away. Then, come July 4th I'll get some firecrackers-- I'll let your imagination take over from here. I'll get the whole thing on video, too (I might even post the video to my server if I decide to do all this). If not that, I'll buy a box of chocolates in a heart-shaped box. I'll probably eat the chocolates since they taste good, but then go out with my car and run over the motherfucker over and over until it's nothing more than an unrecognizable mass of red paper and plastic.
My bitter hatred for Valentine's Day is why I dress in black on that day and listen to music like Dark Funeral and Cradle of Filth and watch horror movies. If it wouldn't get me fired, I'd have gone around work the day before and popped each and every damn Valentine's Day balloon I saw floating above the cubicles. I'm not quite so mean-spirited enough to go out of my way to ruin the day for those who feel compelled to observe it. I'll leave them alone and let them suffer on their own, but I'll be the first one to laugh at the people who break up on this most deplorable day.
If you're happy with your sweetie, more power to you, but if you hate Valentine's Day as much as I do, I invite you to visit these other fine web sites:
In closing, may I recommend the movie Valentine. I watched it last night. I plan to make viewing it an annual tradition.