DAMN, VALENTINE'S Day is just over the horizon. This is my second most-hated time of the year.
There's no doubt about it. Valentine's Day sucks. What a bunch of trite trash it is!
Suddenly, although the killings and general nonsense continue unabated, love is in the air. But it's a special viral love, a 24-hour thing that ends after February 14. But until then, everyone runs around foaming at the mouth, proclaiming their love and pledging eternal love to one another.
It makes me sick.
If someone truly cared about you, I think you'd hear it more often than once a year, presented with a heart shaped cardboard box picked up from a pharmacy filled with cheap chocolates made with oils and lard, and a silly Hallmark card. I'm a stark realist. I want someone to tell me if I'm loved of their own volition, not because of some fabricated greeting card holiday rammed down our throats by the greeting card conglomerates worldwide.
It's the same doggone thing year after year. Once SuperBowl Sunday has passed, you know that for the next month or so, you're going to see Valentine's ads, and store fronts will be decorated in red and white. And you'll have to hear about is this day in which Cupid that fat, loincloth-wearing angel who is the obvious offspring of a brother and a sister goes around sticking everyone in his heart with his stupid little arrows.
Women begin to 'Valentine-accessorise' (that's a new word) like crazy, buying red-and-white outfits, red handbags, red shoes, and hats. And of course, red underwear. Who in the hell finds red underwear sexy? My grandmother once said only widows should sleep in that sort of getup.
Valentine's is a chick day. Women are hopelessly locked in and brainwashed by the wishy-washy sentimentality of the holiday. Even women who publicly proclaim 'I don't need a man!' want a sort of token of some male's affection on Valentine's Day. Some even call florists and order baskets for THEMSELVES on this day. It's pathetic.
This year, the Valentine's Hoax seems kinda worse especially with the all the free texting that is going on in the Digicel network. Every day, it's just text, text, text. Girls who I haven't even glanced at in the last two months (because I started avoiding them in November) are suddenly 'texting' (yes, that's a verb) me.
A lot of my male friends have admitted to me that they are under extreme pressure, especially since a few of them are not...what's that word again...monogamous. They can't wait for February 14 to be history, and with it, the free texting and female expectations.
After Valentine's, a lot of men are going to be in therapy, or on Prozac. Pick your poison.
Valentine's is a woman's holiday anyways. What's in it for us, men? Nada. Zilch. Zip.
They want baskets of fruit, chocolate, flowers, an expensive dinner AND a movie, cute poems are optional, and generic gifts from the heart are a definite no-no. Hence, the typical guy could find a $5,700 (I checked!) hole in his pocket.
And what do we get in return? Women want to give us sex...like that's all men need. Sex? Just sex? Regular sex? No threesome with your cute girlfriend? Give me a break!
Men like to be pampered too. Where are my football tickets? Where are my flowers and chocolates? What about my back rub? What about MY needs?
I hate the damn day: the gushy songs, the worn out one liners, the unnecessary spending, and manufactured, no-calorie, no-fat emotion.
Valentine's Day just plain sucks. Who needs it anyway?
- Claude Mills
You can e-mail me at cmillsy@yahoo.com
