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Saturday, February 24, 2007

Valentine's Piss!

Off topical premise: Post-midnight rage is the fuckin' booze for the soul.

Recently, a certain someone asserted that most of us were busy on Valentine's Day. Many gave a sarcastic yes, and I responded with a 'hell no', to which this 'certain someone' readily agreed; "Oh, you I am sure of. It's not your thing."

Excellent, people seem to know me better than I know myself; perhaps they also hold the cure to cancer and mortal limits; perhaps they can help me become god. Am I being bitter and sarcastic? Why, yes I am! I spew out all this fucked up sarcasm because truth states otherwise. I did in fact team up with a friend of mine on Valentine's Day. A friend who was in a friends with "benefits" clause with me, not so long ago; a clause that we still invoke on very rare occasions.

We teamed up, just for Valentine's Day, and went out of our way to bother a lot of couples, celebrating their love-façade. Oh, and when I say, "out of our way," I mean very much out of our way; every effort was made to annoy and agitate the droves of love-sick morons in denial of the inevitable.

It was all fun and games, until an abrupt end - I started making a Molotov Cocktail, and this worried my partner in crime, as she's always been the disciplinarian compass in my life. As always, she had fun with me, but made sure to draw the line when I was getting ahead of myself. However, this time, for some odd reason, I got pissed off, and so we called it an early night and I fucked off to my own self-dwelling hatred.

To sum it up, I had fun, though the ending did leave a lot to be desired. Now many would think that this is pitiful, and that I am probably some sad putz, deprived of the concept of true caring and "love". Furthermore, many would deduce that I use the fucked up shenanigans on Valentine's Day to compensate for my own emotional deprivations. Well, they're wrong for the most part, but that's still cool, because regardless of how right and wrong they maybe, it was the fucking mother-load of fun! I don't care, because it was a fucking hoot!

Yeah, sure, perhaps the joy was ascertained at the taxing misery of other, caring individuals. Yes, I plead guilty to deriving pleasure from annoying the hell out of the Valentine's Day saps! Yes, I'd like to put a fuckin' arrow through Cupid's left eye, and then go for the right one as well. However, I see nothing wrong in this line of hedonistic logic; fuck morals and ethics. If George 'Dumb-Yah' Bush--the fuckin' president and chief execute of the world--can kill some twenty-thousand civilians, and sacrifice over two-thousand of his own troops in order to turn an autocratic secular state into a religious theocracy for some cheap oil, then I think that provides me with ample leeway to have all the fun I can have at the expense of the bleeding hearts in denial.

Yes, I fucked up Valentine's day for a hearty few, and I enjoyed it. Fact: I did team up with someone on Valentine's day, but I actually celebrated it for what it's worth: Fucking with peoples heads!

Valentine's Piss!

Hey, mister, why so mean?
Because your ignorance is painful,
You fucker, can't you glean?

But love is being celebrated,
Why do you spread this hatred?
Is your fucking brain sedated?
I was having fun as your day was berated!

So then it was all mockery and fun for you?
I relish the vitriolic anti-Valentine's sentiment that I spew!
And why do you want to take out cupid's eyes?
The podgy fucker can't aim, so he doesn't deserve to see!
I might as well donate his eyes and liberate a blind person from their misery!
(I can also bet that at least he'll know how to use his bow and arrow with some dexterity!)

Happy Valentine's Day, fuckers! And yes, it is around ten-days too late, but who cares? More importantly: Do I care? Fuck nah! Anyway, have a good one!


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