It's Valentines Day...

Happy V-day everyone. I know, I know…Valentines day isn't anything to celebrate. Just a stupid holiday made up by the government so that businesses could get more money. It's all about the mercantislism...I think. Capitalist pigs making a day where people have to buy candy and flowers and jewelry for their some random day in the middle of February. I was at the florist last night and this girl was looking at this $80 bouquet of flowers. I was like, "Damn girl. You think your guy's gonna buy you that?" well...I didn't say it, of course. but I was thinkin it. Oh well...this post was pretty much worthless. I'm just killing time til I have to leave for the dance with my stupid rose and corsage and jewelry that I bought my girlfriend on this nice commercialized holiday. Goodbye.

(Edited by Kain at 6:35 pm on Feb. 14, 2004)

Quote: from Murasaki on 4:42 pm on Feb. 14, 2004[br] women should not be intangible, magical beings to be showered with gifts for the sake of their favor.

Wait, so you're saying women aren't magical?  Damn, well, there goes that theory.  Let's see, what should I use now.  Hmm, Women are aliens.  Yeah, that sounds good.

I started out looking for some info on who St. Valentine really was, seeing as I honestly can't say I know. What I found was something of a rabbit hole, and I'm left with the conclusion that there were three of them and something happened with a letter.
That's about it.

SO I decided to post about something a little darker; Viva Chi-Town!

".2122 North Clark Street. It was here, on Valentine's Day 1929, that the most spectacular mob hit in gangland history took place….. the St. Valentine's Day Massacre.

The building was called the S-M-C Cartage Company and was a red, brick structure on Clark Street. The events that led to the massacre began on the morning of the 14th. A group of men had gathered at the warehouse that morning, set up by a Detroit gangster who told Moran that a truck was on its way to Chicago.
One of them was Johnny May, an ex-safecracker who had been hired by George "Bugs" Moran as an auto mechanic. He was working on a truck that morning, with his dog tied to the bumper, while six other men waited for the truck of hijacked whiskey to arrive. The men were Frank and Pete Gusenberg, who were supposed to meet Moran and pick up two empty trucks to drive to Detroit and pick up smuggled Canadian whiskey; James Clark, Moran's brother-in-law; Adam Heyer; Al Weinshank; and Reinhardt Schwimmer, a young optometrist who had befriended Moran and hung around the liquor warehouse just for the thrill of rubbing shoulders with gangsters.
Bugs Moran was already late for the morning meeting. He was due to arrive at 10:30 but didn't even leave for the rendezvous, in the company of Willie Marks and Ted Newberry, until several minutes after that."

For more, ignore my theory on link-clicking and GO HERE.

Also, for the record, I bought my guy Battleship.
Oh yea, some of those various and sundry little candies/flowers/whatnots too.

Funnily enough, his mom got me more gifts than he did :P

4/c Love, baby…hoo-ah.

(Edited by Lena at 8:46 am on Feb. 15, 2004)

(Edited by Lena at 8:48 am on Feb. 15, 2004)

How about :Hangover from a Lousy Brooklyn Warehouse Bash." day?

GAHHH.

Okay, you're right. Woman are very special. We're wonderful, magical beings that you aren't meant to understand or contemplate. We're more attractive than you, perpetually desirable, and your only chance of getting laid short of being gay or something inflatable and latex.

We absolutely deserve to be 'made happy.' We should be showered with gifts and praise, and you should definitely alter your behavior to please us- because, after all, if your woman doesn't like something about you, it must obviously be wrong. Your highest achievement in life is to find that woman that will stay with you until you can marry her and to have 8 kids with her.

Are men special? Of course not. Why do you think we have Ladies' Night at bars? To get pretty women to come in, of course. Do you really think we'd drink alcohol if we weren't being celebrated as the inscrutable goddesses that we are? We've got better things to do.

If you're going to love a woman, love her as an individual. Not as her gender. And if you have a shred of respect for her, respect full and equal attention in return. Make her as responsible for satisfying your whims as you feel you are for satisfying hers.

Which brings us to the Withmore Valintine's Day Massacre.  Man, dead bodies all over the place, I lot like the Chistmas Massacre…oh, and the Tuesday Massacre.  Umm, come to think about it, it's a lot like everyday in the dome.

Wow, 'schtucking.' Yiddish lives on in the postmodern age.

I still remember the "Glorious Fluffy Bunny Massacre of 2088."

Fun times.

Bitterness is healthy.
And it looks cool in nightclubs. :)