Look, I realize that everybody tries to market their personal bric-a-brac as a perfect Valentine's Day gift to move some units. Hell, Bill O'Reilly seriously
plugged his books as a good gift, which is ridiculous since
this is obviously the superior literary bequest for the modern lady. When you try to push a
reusable menstrual pad as something every girl wants to open on February 14 though, then you have left behind sanity quicker than the Rapture speeding away from Richard Dawkins with an upraised middle finger.
AHHHHHH! Bring back Baby Evan. I don't care if he's Lilith's undead abortion, only he can fight this monstrosity. These are handcrafted Victorian dilDolls, and I would like to point out that I don't know the exact signs that herald the Anti-Christ but I am willing to bet my soul they involve horrible puns! They say Valentine's Day is a perfect opportunity to introduce a little spice into the bedroom, but I promise you that if someone is heading towards your orifice brandishing this dead-eyed invader then they only want spice the way Armin Meiwes wanted a good meat fork.
"Daddy, you're my Valentimes!" said my lovely and adorable three-year-old daughter. I'm sure she's off whispering to my wife about what she can get me to show me that we are bound together in a way only a father and daughter can be. Sweetie, if you're reading this? Please know that buying a preserved umbilical cord is definitely not going to send the message you think it will. I mean, you may think, "Gift of life," but all I think is, "Involuntary committal."
On one hand, it's nice to let your partner know that they are more important than the other 1,500 people dying in a horrible maritime disaster with this, admittedly, brilliant looking poster. On the other hand it does remind us that had Rose used even the slightest ingenuity then she could have lived her life with the person she loved. Oh well, it's a pretty picture, but don't pack it on the cruise.
No matter what you do, get chocolate on Valentine's Day. It sounds cliché, but a woman without access to chocolate as Valentine's draws to a close is a woman perfectly capable of ending your shit as we know it. Now, there's nothing wrong with a good old Whitman Sample as long as you're capable of buying two and replacing the toothpaste ones with edible ones, but you could always up the ante with white chocolate baby heads. Now if you'll excuse me, these eyeballs aren't going to rip themselves out of their sockets.
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