Despite what most people might think I don't hate Valentime's Day. How could I hate a fake holiday where people are forced to show their undying love for me?? Glittery fake devotion is what I live for. Except for all the pank.
But I'll take blood red of course.
|Be still my soon-to-be-lifeless heart.|
Combining my love for gratuitous gore and repressed Victorian sweetness and you get Jessica Harrison's porcelain dolls.
Butterflies in your tummy? Awww... cute. But THIS is what real love feels like!!!! It's lot closer to Braveheart getting drawn and quartered than flutterings and angels.
Skulls are so unnecessary, really, but a smile is an absolute requirement if you're a nice girl.
Sadly, the most thoughtful Valentime's gift I ever received was from my gay best friend in high school who SWORE he didn't want to be just friends but that he was actually in love with me. A real love that included braiding my hair, trying to touch my boobs but completely avoiding my vagina. I tried to convince him it was actually dick he was in love with but it took him another four years to figure that out. I'm like the Horse Whisperer of gay dudes if they every bothered to listen to me rather than going on and on about how pretty my eye makeup is. I need you to focus, guys.
I think one time a (straight) dude asked me "Bet you thought I was going to get you something today?" followed by 10 seconds of awkward silence................. Oh high school BFF, I think I've made a horrible mistake! Please come back and braid my hair!! I'll let you touch my boobs all you want!!
If dangling eyeballs isn't your thing (you might be a pussy) or maybe you just don't want to dust another tchotchke you can always get a fantastic Killhouettes print by John Fair.
|'Lady Butterwick's Trophy Husband' which will soon be hanging above my fireplace.|
This might be the only kind of sport I like.
And possibly the way I like this holiday the best. Maybe I could dip all this stuff in chocolate to take it to the next level.