Once again, that day is back where men are guilt-forced into shelling out coin in hopes of climaxing the evening with a pity blowjob.
Valentine's Day is here again, the day women expect to get treated like royalty with sugary, tooth-rotting candies purchased via drugstore on the way home form work and flowers bought from the only grocery store open at the last minute. Time to go to the movies and make sure you pull that hat down tight so you don't run into anybody you know while purchasing two tickets for Sin & Sentimentality (starring Julia Roberts, directed by of course Gary Marshall).
One of the greatest thing about this so-called special day is that the guys trying to impress their lady friends are actually viciously competing with each other without even knowing: Who WILL get the best flowers? Who WILL get the most expensive piece of jewellery? Who WILL get to go to the best restaurant with the best table? Only the best person of all, that's who.
Now guys, one thing: Stop fucking sending flowers to work if your wife works in a place with hundreds of other females. Sure, your wife is happy, every other woman in the place is fuming. You see, delivery guys don't go directly to whomever the flowers are for, they carry it though every room of the building like it's the goddamn Stanley Cup just for their own sick amusement, ensuring at least a few guys will be reasoning through a solid, locked bathroom door for a few hours tonight.
Ladies, how necessary is this day to you? Sure, you EXPECT you get the royal treatment, which of course puts your man in a position to let you down. Isn't it more special when he SURPRISES you with flowers or a gift? Isn't that more romantic and thoughtful than making him run an obstacle course of kiss-ass within the hours of when work ends and bedtime?
Maybe we could focus less on this day, and more focus on getting hammered next month instead. At least BOTH of you will have fun.
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