Here we go: I’m bracing myself for the onslaught of hate email calling me out for being all bitter and jaded and whatnot…but there is a plain and simple truth I must share on this most glorious of
puke-inspiring love-infested days.
I fucking hate Valentine’s Day.
And here’s the reason: The one and only time in my life I was proposed to, it just happened to be Valentine’s Day.
(And yeah, I hate the dangling preposition before the comma in that last sentence. But what’s the alternative? “The one and only time in my life someone to me proposed?” “The one and only time in my life on which I was proposed…to?” Ugh…)
Anyhow, back to the point. One day. One proposal. One future brick yet to be born. One future ex.
And the fake proposal offered in the dairy aisle of the neighborhood grocery store with the fake wedding cake and flute full of fake champagne? Totally doesn’t count.
Yes, Brett fake popped the fake question. In real Safeway. In front of the milk and half-and-half and papaya-mango-orange juice that tastes like sugar and fruit chews dissolved in a liquid suspension with an odd background flavor of bubblegum, curry and gasoline.
Not cool, Brett. Not cool at all. Especially for this jaded, bitter cynic-chick.
…who fucking hates Valentine’s Day.
In fact, I hate this day so much, in my home it’s no longer just “Valentine’s Day.” It’s “Fucking Valentine’s Day.”
To wit, a transcript of a real conversation from Sunday:
Me: You’re not going to get me a card for Fucking Valentine’s Day, are you?
Brett: Well, I was planning on it. Should I not?
Me: Whatever. I guess that means I have to get you a card for Fucking Valentine’s Day, huh?
Brett: OK???? I know there’s a right answer to this question. But I don’t know the right answer to this question. What’s the right answer to this question???
So yesterday, I found this card.
(“That being said” is our catch phrase…because everyone says it these days. Seriously.
Now that I’ve made you all aware of it, you’ll start seeing it everywhere. You’re welcome.)
For last year’s Valentine’s Day post, I made no secret of how much I hated Valentine’s Day. Remember my personalized “Hallmark…of Pain” cards? Or how, instead of “Sweet hearts,” I came up with my own line of “Bitter hearts”?
So this year, I spent time brainstorming, delving, investigating and researching. I mean, I feel it’s my duty — nay, obligation — to provide you with some fuckin’ awesome gift ideas for this most fuckin’ awesome of holidays.
So here we go: In no particular order, here’s my list of the Top 5 Bizarre Valentine’s Day Gift Ideas for the Cynical, Bitter and Jaded.
Gift Idea #1: An experience that titillates the senses.
If you can make it to New York today, you can take advantage of a one-day-only offer. And it’s not a Broadway play for lovers. Nor dining while overlooking the Empire State Building, à la Sleepless in Seattle.
Nope. The Newtown Creek Wastewater Plant — also known as the town’s sewage treatment facility — is offering “tours for lovers” this Valentine’s Day.
I shit you not. (See what I did there?)
Witness first-hand the sweeping, romantic vistas of churning poop and grinding sewage and experience the dreamy aromas of enticing excrement as you fall in love, all over again.
Oh yeah, and the news story notes you’ll get a Hershey’s Kiss just for attending. Because you’ll definitely be craving chocolate after this steamy rendezvous.
delusional adorable plant superintendent calls it a “unique date,” adding this quirky little quip:
“Just imagine going home and saying, ‘Where did he take me on Valentine’s Day? I went to see the digester eggs in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.”
Poor, poor psychotic superintendent dude. So disturbed — yet so optimistic, peering through those decidedly shit-colored glasses.
Because nothing says “I love you” like a visit to the glorious plant o’ crap.
Gift Idea #2: Something for the more cerebral lover in your life.
Did you see the latest?
According to a recent article on the Huffington Post Divorce site, brain scans may soon be able to help us determine if our partner is the faithful type…or maybe not so much.
Totally exciting, right? The research — compliments of the highfalutin Scientific American — suggests that because breaking a promise is a complex neurobiological event, a brain scan may be able to predict those who are making false promises before they break their word.
According to the HuffPo post:
When it comes to matters of the heart, love has less to do with the heart and more to do with the brain. New technologies, like functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), allow us to look inside the brain when it’s in the throes of love — or just mere attachment love. And they also allow us to weed out a man or woman who, despite promising to love, honor and cherish us above all others “till death do us part,” is more likely to break that vow.
The article also goes on to address a promising drug that might soon be available to increase our vasopressin receptor, which, when boosted in the oft-filandering meadow mole, converts it to a monogamous mole.
Also called a monogamole.
So by extrapolating these results, it’s possible a simple little pill could transform a cad into a catch.
The funny part of this story? (I know, I know…shouldn’t the fact that a brain scan might predict cheating be funny in and of itself? Shouldn’t the prospect of a pill to pop to inspire monogamy be enough? But wait…there’s more).
I may or may not have used the medium of Twitter last week to proclaim my jaded, cynical bitterness. And the Huffington Post Divorce site may or may not have run my tweet on its front page.
For five days.
So this Valentine’s Day, get the gift that keeps on giving. Get your lover a brain scan.
Gift Idea #3: A stuffed — ahem — animal (????)
Actually, yeah, okay: I’m talking about stuffed sperm.
EVERYONE loves a stuffed animal for Valentine’s Day, right? Well how about snuggling up with this adorable creature:
That’s one plush male gamete for $8.94…or get a value deal (it’s the same as an extra-value meal — minus the Diet Coke) by purchasing both the egg and sperm microbes for $16.99. That’s right: You save 89 cents!!!!!
According to the website, each microbe is 5-7 inches long — over a million times its actual size.
(And the eyes — oh, the eyes!)
But my favorite part: The product description notes that the set is “For children under 3 years and up.”
Translation: Stuffed sperm…a gift for all ages!
Gift Idea #4: A gift certificate.
Raise your hand if you love to be spoiled.
Thought so. This year, how about a gift certificate promising significant, substantial spoilage?
Jack in the Box, my friends, has unveiled its Bacon Shake … for a limited time only.
Yip, you read that right. A bacon shake.
When I first saw this news story, I thought to myself: “This is a joke. I must be reading The Onion.”
Except it wasn’t a joke. And it wasn’t The Onion. It was bacon. And it is real.
According to info from the über-health-conscious chain, a 24-ounce shake contains only (emphasis added) 54 fat grams and 1,081 calories. And the offer is hush-hush: Not on the menu, available only upon request for those who crave the bacon — and who can endure the judgmental glares of surrounding, baffled onlookers.
Gift Idea #5: The gift of a name.
You’ve heard about naming a star after your loved one, right?
This is just like that. Only instead of a celestial body, you’re naming a hissing cockroach.
Seriously friends. This one is too good to be true.
The Bronx Zoo is allowing sponsors to name a Madagascar hissing cockroach…for only $10. As the website promises, “Flowers wilt. Candlelight fades. But roaches are forever.”
Think it can’t get any better? Oh, but it does…
According to the website:
For just $15 more, a hand-painted, artisanal [editor’s note: look, “anal”!!] chocolate roach will give your Valentine something to squeal about. There’s no reason to bug out with this 100% luxury dark chocolate gift, which we’ll ship for free directly to you or to the lucky gift recipient.
This spunky gift is ideal for the soon-to-be-ex…or the already-ex. Or even for the ex’s ex-ex. Or his/her future ex.
And FYI, I will neither confirm nor deny the rumor that there’s a smarmy little cockroach in the Bronx Zoo, madly darting about and seeking out cracks and crevices while evading the harsh light of day, scavenging for decaying organic matter and proudly sporting the moniker “Marilyn ‘The Brick’ Manson.”
Nope. My lips are sealed.
Well there you have it. I hope you find some inspiration among these suggestions. I know I did…
And here we are at the perky giveaway part. Wanna get lucky?
You remember my favorite t-shirt ever, the one that proclaims “Love makes me puke”? The one I debuted in last year’s post? The one I proudly wear each and every Valentine’s Day — much to the chagrin of my children and Brett?
Well, I have another. Brand new with tags, size XL. Just for you — if you’re the lucky one.
It’s my way of saying, “Happy Fuckin’ Valentine’s Day” from jaded me to awesome you.
To enter to win, just leave a comment below — answering one or all of the following:
- Turd tour, infidelity scan, cuddly sperm, bacon shake or cockroaches…what’s your favorite? Reactions to this compendium of bizarre gift ideas?
- Any items to add to the list? I need fodder for next year, after all.
- Thoughts about Marilyn the Hissing Cockroach, who may or may not exist?
Oh yeah, and if you share my post on Facebook or Twitter, you get TWO chances to win. Just make sure you tag me by joining my brand new Facebook page, “Mikalee Byerman, Writer Chick,” to add your tag. Or on Twitter, I’m @mikaleebyerman. Creative, no?
Love ya mean it!