The jewelry commercials are on the radio again. They brag about their mass-produced product, go on about cutters in Hong Kong and all the buying trips abroad to find those perfect heartshaped rubies. All so guys can spend their hard earned money on some piece of crap thing that their fat girlfriend will only wear for a few months until summer hits and styles change again. Maybe they at least get a decent blowjob out of the deal. For their sakes, I hope that's the least that $99.99 will buy.
If PHF ever bought me a heartshaped ruby, I'd divorce him and take him for enough cash to buy myself REAL jewelry, real regular-like.
The worst is this guy from a local jewelry company. He claims to be the owner, and he must be, because no self-respecting marketing rep would hire that voice-over. He sucks the big wang. (If you live here, you know the one.) I cringe everytime I hear his whiny, self-depreciating, smarmy, somebody-please-fuck-me-once-in-my-life voice start up again. We don't care about your imaginary "kids and wife", we know you're gay for crissake. Shut the fuck up about your (also probably made up) trips to Bangkok to buy pearls from the little guy who's the grandson of the guy your grandfather bought from. True or not, we don't care. All we care is if you have a decent diamond and you don't, so get off my airwaves. Christ, if you insist on speaking in the ads, at least get someone in to write them for you.
Lately his drivel consists of something along the lines of, "Valentine's Day is the most romantic day of the year to get engaged..." blahblahfuckingblah. You give a chick a big-ass diamond ring, and poof! It's a bona fide Most Romantic Day. Who the fuck cares what the date is? The chick gets the ring, the guy gets laid. Everybody goes home happy.
Speed Racer and his wife (someone told me to nickname her Bree from Desperate Housewives. I'll go with that, not necessarily for the anal part, but for Bree's tougher characteristics)... anyway, for Valentine's Speed Racer and Bree go to dinner and to whichever really bad movie is playing. What a great tradition - a fun date and a mocking of the holiday in one go. I highly admire mocking with so much aplomb.
PHF and I don't hold much with romance and we don't really do Valentine's Day. We aren't big card or gifty people (whenever he hints that he wants something I say, "CoughcoughRubicon!" He pretty much blew the gift quota for a few years with that one. Come to think of it, whatever he wants usually is something for the Rubicon, anyway.)
One of the funniest things he ever said was a few years back when a holiday was coming up we were looking for cards for someone else. He picked out a card and showed it to me. "Here, this is the card I would get you if I ever bought you cards."
I about peed my pants from laughing in the middle of Target. That's good humor, which to me makes for good romance.
Today he asked me if he was supposed to get me something for Valentine's Day. I told him, "I was going to say that we should do nothing, but by asking you pretty much just screwed yourself. Big and bright and expensive, fuck-you-very-much."
He would read this and laugh his ass off though because he's bought me some really fine jewelry in the past, like diamond studs for when I had my first kid. Usually I just have to show him something and eventually he gets it for me.
We call Valentine's a Hallmark holiday, meaning that while they might not have invented it, they perpetuate the damn thing. Like all the other stores do at Christmas, and now Halloween, too, damn it. Can't they just leave it the fuck alone, already!! (Ash Wednesday is the last untouched holiday. Even Easter has been fucked over by marketing departments across the country.)
So who's with me? Let's pretend that Feb. 14 is just another day. Let's leave stacks of dusty, sappy cards in their red envelopes; reams of fading ribbon at the craft shops; buckets of blackening roses at Flowers.com; expensive, sub-par restaraunts vacant and echoey; and piles of glittery, crappy jewelry in the case where it belongs.
Let's all stay in and have a good fuck instead. That's what I'd call an excellent Valentine's gift.