I Hope You Have a TERRIBLE FUCKING DAY.

happy valentine's day, everyone! i'm working on getting into my bitterest of moods for my bitter party. don't worry: all my bitterness is completely sarcastic. so... i'm just sitting at home, waiting for ashley to get her ass over here, and if we want to invite more bitter people who refuse to date, we will. i'm going to practice bitterness now.
bah, valentine's day! who would waste twenty dollars on a stuffed gorilla holding a heart? and, pfft, like anyone would want a stuffed gorilla, anyway! i mean, they're only absolutely adorable and soft and cuddly. pfft, i don't need it. i don't even need someone to want to get me a stuffed gorilla. men are chauvinist pigs! to give a girl a valentine is to beg for sex. men have ulterior motives for every kind gesture! "here, let me open the door for you!" really means "PLEASE LET ME FUCK YOU." "you have such a pretty smile" means "i've been staring at your mouth and i want to stick my tongue down your throat." y'know, if someone showed up on my porch with roses or chocolates (INTENTIONS OF SEXING ME), i might just hit them over the head with the lamp by the door and stomp on their groin when they fall over in pain. and then, as they're puking from the gut-twisting pain, i'll grab a piece of wood from the piles on the porch and whack 'em in the head again. by this point they'll be out cold, so i'll drag 'em inside, strap 'em down, and castrate the bastard. he will scream in pain, beg for forgiveness, beg to keep his balls, but it will be too late. and then, because i am not a surgeon, they will die from blood loss. oh, well!
it's sickening to hear all these gooey stories about how "oooh, my boyfriend just got me a diamond necklace! we're so much in love, we're going to get married, nurr." and then there are the people like me, who really would like something but would rather act all bitter about it. however, i'm being bitter for fun. i believe that there has got to be at least one terribly negative bitch on valentine's day, and i don't know who else will do it! but i really am one of those mopey girls who sit around the house daydreaming about opening the door to find a boy holding just the right valentine's gift, smiling shyly with a twinkle in his eye, ready to grab you and kiss you deeply, totally unlike him and totally awesome. but of course there's that other part of me that is all, "EW BOYS ARE GRODY, HE HAS ULTERIOR MOTIVES; HE WANTS TO RAPE YOU ON YOUR OWN PORCH," and that's the main part of me, the part i rely on for every day decisions. "oh, great conscience, should i invite over so-and-so?" "NO, CHILD. HE WILL RAPE YOU, YOU WILL GET PREGNANT, AND YOU WILL DIE DURING CHILDBIRTH." "oh, conscience, should i say something romantic?" "NO, YOU SHOULD PROBABLY SAY SOMETHING HORRIBLY CYNICAL AND THROW HIM OFF. HE CAN'T RAPE YOU IF YOU CONFUSE HIS PENIS." things like that.
so, yeah! i like the idea of romanticism, but it terrifies me. i love me some cute guys, but they're awful, chauvinist pigs who will rape me at any given moment.