[Update: To the ever so eloquent anonymous commenters: First of all, SUCK IT. Secondly, if you do not speak Rabbitese and are obviously not a follower of my blog and haven't the foggiest as to the context of all things redheaded and dancing, do not try to pass judgement with your pettiness. Those that know, smell the humour in this post like dog shit on a shoe. Call up Vanna White's antiquated cooch and get a clue, m'dear. And thirdly, if you are gonna be festered pecker in comments, at least have the nuts to leave a name. The whole anonymous thing is such a fat pussy way to go. Cheers.
And on with the show:]
Valentine's Day and it's gifts and pretentious bullshit can suck the unwiped poo from my hairy hole of bung.It's stressin' me out, and I don't need anymore undue stress. And it really shouldn't be about that anyway. I am allowing it to blow up into something it's not. It's yet another day to sell more candy and pack more weight onto our already fat asses. It's sad, really, that it takes some bastardization of a holiday for people to be remotely nice to one another - it's worse than Commercialmas.
So fuck you flying fat baby. I will snatch away your quiver and bow and shove it up your pee hole. That damned love bug better watch the fuck out, too, because I have a can of Raid and killer fuckin' aim. And, trust, you really don't want to see my crazy ass wielding a flip-flop and screeching Iko-Iko! either. Scary shit there.
*sigh*
I feel better now.
