I won’t sugarcoat it. Valentine’s Day is not my thing.
It is a shmoopy memorial brought into being by the greeting card industry. A Hallmark holiday celebrated via a weaponized fat toddler (who would realistically kill the romance in any relationship with the pungent aroma of a full diaper if you weren’t first snipered by fallen pieces from a shattered Lego arrow). All while honoring a saint who was ultimately beheaded, via the grand gesture of murdered foliage most symbolized for its thorny exterior – evolved by nature to stab you should you look at it wrong. Continue reading