The Pole Reversal of Valentine's

This morning a very lovely lady turns to me on the transit system & asks, "Oh! Did you do your hair like that for Valentine's Day?"

"Um... no. I don't believe in this thing you call Valentine's Day."

"Oh. I see."

"I did this for a party I helped throw last Saturday."

"Was it fun?"

"Definitely"

"See ya! Have a good day!" *smiles*

This is rather unusual, you see. Folks on transit don't normally start conversations with me. Fair enough though, my hair is not usually a brighter red than Ronald McDonald's. Whatever. It was nice & I am totally off topic.



So. Valentine's Day.

I want all of you wonderful people out there in Blogland to follow me. No, seriously. Look out to the stars! See how beautiful each one is & dream of how it can bring you hope of one day finding that perfect special someone! Very good. Now I want you to raise your hand to the stars with your palm facing you. Excellent. Now, ever so gently, I want you to curl down your index finger. Gently now. You must think of the grace and beauty of this lover's day. Now curl down your pinky. Slowly. Slow like stroking your lovely man's prostate. Now your ring finger. Good. We're almost there. Now the thumb. I know some of you are having trouble with this. (Excepting Elle and a few others) NOW THE THUMB! DO IT!!

Ah. Well done, class.

I propose that Valentine's Day take on this new representation. Your middle finger. I also propose that instead of having only one day a year to be nice and sweet to others, we do it all the time!

No. Scratch that.

How about we be nice and sweet to others for 364 days a year and THEN, on each Valentine's Day, we allow our pessimism, our anger, our lack of tolerance to SURGE to the surface for one day of species pruning! Yaas. The polar reversal of St. Valentine! We allow ourselves on this one day to take all that built up aggression and dump it on those who we hid it from all these days. Population control. Gene pool cleaning. Now we're beginning to evolve.



With this new declaration in place, I leave you now and I hope to see you all alive tomorrow. Peace.

And if you HAVE to celebrate Valentine's day the old way, at least shout my name while you're getting your coals raked. No real reason. I'd just like to imagine how many times my name might be shouted mid load blowing.