Happy Impending Love Day!

Hey, would ya look at that? Next week is another holiday that pressures me into being pressured into buying something with meaning when really all I can do is take a guess and hope that a potential blow-job doesn't turn into absolute dissapointment.

I've been pretty good over the years, though. I usually manage (at the last minute) to find something that seems to work. Right honey? Sure.

But I'm not perfect and I admit that I have made some bad purchasing decisions during holidays. Here's a few I'll cop to in the hopes that I'll save some poor wretch from fuckin' up like me.

Rented a motel room for romance
If you read that quickly and thought nothing of it, let me highlight the bad word - "motel". Yeah, not a hotel. Not even a motel with a name. It was just called "Motel". Actually, with the neon letters that were burnt out it was called 'Mo_ e_ '. And having a drink in the bar called "Tavern" next door to it was a mistake as well (and in no way does my wife look like a truck stop prostitute. But you try and tell the roughnecks trying to buy her -and I quote- "a fag drink" that she's not, and boy oh boy your in for some trouble). Oh well, live and learn, eh? In my defence though, it was in the nicer section of the industrial district.

Spa Package
That sure sounds nice - my beautiful wife getting pampered and all that. Very nice indeed. But guess what? Purchasing that certificate which plainly reads "no refunds" taught me that a "bath house" is most often frequented by men who wear risque biker outfits, outfits regular bikers wouldn't dare wear. Rarely will you see a Hell's Angel wearing chaps without pants underneath. The gentleman at the front desk was very friendly to me though, and their rainbow logo was nicely designed.

Exotic Fruit Basket
No, I'm not talking about the bath house again. I mean an actual basket of actual fruit. All I'm gonna say about this is that you should really check for dead AND alive turantulas before you wrap it up. On a side note, Chamomile Tea does not soothe the nerves as well as they claim, especially when it turns out she's allergic to it. But fennel is a great detoxifier.

Collection of Love Poems by Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson spent alot of her writing time figuring out how to make men unable to live up to the romantic ideal she had.

And why can't these poets just come out and say what they mean?

WILD nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile the winds
To a heart in port,—
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.

Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee! - Emily Dickinson

It seems to me she either wants her man to make her cum like a porn star ("wild nights should be our luxury"), or she wants to strap one on and do him in the butt (Might I but moor tonight in thee"). I'm not sure. All I know is that I wasn't capable of doing either.


So there ya go. Just promise me son not to do the things I've done. Just walk away from trouble if you can by buying her some smelly, foamy bath shit. Lavender is always a nice smell.

Khai, buy fer nouw.