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It’s way too easy to say I hate Valentine’s Day. F*ck yeah I do. But apparently my having a vagina means that I’m all about that kind of life.

Supposedly I’m absolutely gagging for your crappy candy hearts, your shitty stuffed bears and the potential of your lackluster head. Not going to lie, I f*cking love chocolate, but I’d rather it on your dick than in a f*cking heart shaped box.

So, naturally, you’re suspicious — a girl who hates V-Day. Bravo, Nancy f*cking Drew. There’s nothing more terrible than a bitch that pretends to be disenchanted with the occasion and then ignores you for a week when you drop the ball(s).


The jig is up. So I’m not immune to love. But hear me out, because I think you may be down for my solution to the Valentine’s daylemma. Let me start by being honest — an open relationship, if you will, dear reader.

I like the vague construct of the holiday, the barebone(r)s of it all. I do believe there is some merit in devoting a day to mutual appreciation, adoration, (s)exploration and love. But this shit has gone way too far up its own candied ass.

The days leading up to Valentine’s Day mark a chasm in perspective: those in love with love and the skeptics ruefully crying Hallmark. Of course the greeting cards invented the holiday, give me a f*cking holiday they didn’t invent, exploit or destroy?


Bro, materialism is the basis of our society: exhibit A – Weezy. Yep, we are drowning in capitalism, but its perpetual existence is not the reason I have sworn off the tunnel of love. It’s just that there’s a deeper, more sensitive tunnel craving more satisfying methods of attention.

Glad your mouth is hanging open; don’t even think about closing it just yet.

We’ve heard every complaint before, so it ends here. Decrying the holiday is useless without offering an actual solution to this tired affair. F*ck Valentine’s Day altogether, f*ck it all to the depths of frilly hell. Let’s celebrate a new holiday, reappropriate this stale bitch and invigorate it with the promise of innovation.


I plead for us to leave behind the trite mimicry of love and get all wrapped up in the act (artist) formerly known as lovemaking. We need to focus our attention on a new holiday — one that’s only a month apart from its prissy predecessor. And I’m thinking it’ll be hard to find someone who doesn’t get off (twice) to this proposition…

March 14th: Steak and Blowjob Day. Because who the f*ck doesn’t like steak and blowjobs? Its concept is fairly straightforward: swallowing. Let’s abandon cards and pick up cocks. So what if Steak and Blowjob Day was invented for men to counter the inexplicable joys women supposedly receive from Valentine’s Day. Bullshit, find me a woman who doesn’t prefer cunnilingus to candy and steak to sweet tarts.

Forget gender stratifications. In the dissolution of Valentine’s Day, we need to celebrate an all-inclusive adoration of the human body. Reach all the way up that skirt (steak). Lick it now; lick it good. Swallow and repeat.

Do NOT forget — this is a two way street. And I’m not talking about the asshole, gents. Spread those fingers and legs to their widest V formation.


Dump the roses and serve the sirloin. Haven’t done the 69 since ’69? It’s time to choke dick and lavish wet pussy — all the while enjoying a fat bloody steak. What are flowers to facials and filet mignon?

I demand that we forget the obligations, forget the jewelry, forget the gifts and just go absolutely ham on each other’s respective privates. Dessert’s on me… no really — I’ll have you licking it off my chest. Invite your friends. Make sure they’re well hung (tits count too).

And don’t forget, holidays are meant to be orgiastic. B.Y.O.KY and A1 — ain’t nobody got time for a dry campus.

If we learned anything from math (and we sure as f*ck didn’t): VDAY < BJ

In conclusion: Fuck Valentine’s Day, let’s just face f*ck each other.

– via Elite Daily