I wrote this last year over at The Toolshed and since Saint Valentine's Day hasn't came to a crashing halt like a Georgian luger yet, I suppose it needs to be posted again. Enjoy.
So St. Valentine's Day is here...Yes, I said SAINT Valentine's Day. Only hallmark could turn a Holiday based on a Christian Martyr, or four, into a day that makes men buy their significant others flowers, candies, gifts, and dinner. This is bullshit. The boycott officially begins now. I refuse to celebrate, is Valentine's Day really celebrated?, a holiday that is based on nothing but fallacies, Roman Catholicism...boy lovers, and fake prophets. Do we really need another Christmas just a couple months later? But the worst part about the whole thing is that only women get to benefit. Not only were we kind enough to let them vote, but we even gave them their own holiday. How the fuck did that happen? Well I say, you want equal rights? Buy me some god damn flowers. I'll take 'em.
Thanks a lot St. Ass hole, you set us up for failure. Saint Valentine wasn't a martyr, he was a traitor. He turned his back on his entire gender and now us men are stuck footing the bill for the rest of eternity...or December 21, 2012. Weren't their any Saints that stood for great things like booze, sports, and polygamy? I mean, somebody who was a combination of Joseph Smith, Walter Camp, and Adolphus Busch. That would be my kind of Saint. St. Patrick's Day is nice and all, but I kind of hate Irish people because of it. Saint SmithCampBusch, now that would be a true Saint. If there ever was such a man, I imagine his idea of a holiday would be quite wonderful.....
On the morning of SmithCampBusch day, your significant other would have to take you to Star Diner in the morning for some breakfast. She would be allowed to come inside, but she couldn't hold anything that you did inside in the building against you when you got out. That means any breast oogling, ass pinching, or general sexual harassment towards the waitresses would be fair play. Also, ordering O.J. is not allowed on SmithCampBusch day. It is either booze and coffee or beer with your breakfast... just the way Adolphus Busch would have liked it. The way it was meant to be. Of course, she picks up the tab. For lunch, Hooters. Sure, the wings suck, but the scenery is nice enough. Again, the same rules apply. Your significant other couldn't so much as eyeball you for knocking your silverware onto the floor and asking your waitress to bend over and pick it up right in front of you. And lets not forget about the football. Your significant other must wear a cheerleader uniform from your choice of team...I'm going with the Cowboys. And she must walk around like Vanna White when you request that the channel be changed... just the way Walter Camp would have like it.
For the nightcap, is there any doubt? Platinum Showgirls. I normally am not one that enjoys such places, I feel like a fucking sleazeball every time I am in such a joint, but it's a celebration bitches. So Mrs. Ace would have to drive me up to the Strip Club, obviously, I have been drinking since 10 am. Then, she has to pay my way in, this is my holiday dammit. And when I take my place right in front of the stage, Mrs. Ace has to find a seat right by the ATM to insure that I don't miss the chance to have titties rubbed in my face. And then at the end of the night, you get to pick three lovely ladies to come home with you...just the way Joseph Smith would have liked it.
Now that is a holiday that I can get behind. But I am afraid that fantasy will always be just that, a fantasy. So sorry fellas. Don't forget to make your way to the florist...and don't forget the lube. How can flowers possibly cost so much! And don't forget a card with a sweet poem on it...I hear 2 Live Crew has some great ones. So yeah, whatever. Happy Valentine's Day!