go v yourself: v-day lady j’s way.
(card by Modern Ink Stationary and can be bought on Etsy)
V-day. V-slam. V-smile. Take your V to work day. Natalie Portman’s shorn dome.
We all know the infamous day, and we have all become fully aware of its impending arrival through the many recognizable annual ques; ubiquitous displays and decorations, the overwhelming influx of packaging with hearts and flying fat infants with crossbows, jewelry commercials with fake couples wearing down vests, and, most alarmingly, the unwanted haunting presence of those *goddamn* horny-4-u (I believe that’s their official product name) Hallmark plush toy bears with magnets sewn into their faces.
I’d like to invite you all for a spell to venture into one of my most intimate thought catacombs regarding this day, and the aforementioned critter couple:
I have spent many a moment, beginning at a tender age, fantasizing about burglarizing my local Hallmark during the witching hour (Laura’s Hallmark to be specif-why the f did they always have a personalized possessive owner in the name of each store? I always asked if I could be helped by Laura. That degenerate was never around. Who knows if she even exists.), doing some invasive surgery on those kissy-face bears, and redepositing their magnets in very interesting and sexually suggestive bear body zones. Picture it. A customer reaches for a pair of horny bears, sweet thoughts ‘o love and tenderness a-buzz in her brain. She picks them up, feeling their soft fur and squishy bodies, noticing the intricate detail of the big red hearts embroidered on their round bear tummies (filled with honey I’m sure of it!), looking into their kind but empty plastic eyes, and letting herself smile a bit, because she knows exactly what’s coming. After all, she’s waited 11 months for this day. She starts to move her hands together, slowly, anticipating the sacred union. She’s already given her friends secret bear names. Rhett is the male, after Rhett Butler in Gone With the Wind, and the lady bear, Sandra Lee, after her favorite homemaker and party host. The two get closer and closer, still aligned as if to share that magic kiss, mere inches away now, and her heart is beating at a rapid rate, as if it will tear right through her turtleneck and soar into the heavens. Then, suddenly, but with such satisfaction, she feels the magnetic pull. Rhett and Sandra begin to beckon to one another, leaning in, yearning for each other’s innocent touch… the space between them now disappearing like the presence of a man in their giant host’s life. Any moment now their love will be sealed, closer and closer… their bear bodies almost touching now and suddenly! With no way to stop it, Rhett swan-dives at 60 mph straight into Sandra’s Swedish pancake.
Words cannot describe the horror and shock. Is this some kind of a sick, twisted joke?! Why would Rhett do such a thing!? Is this her fault!? She throws the promiscuous beasts down with disgust and storms out, drafting a letter of complaint to Laura in her racing, troubled mind…
Whether you love the V, hate the V, plan its events for months, or dread it’s arrival, I do hope in my heart of hearts that you all spend it with someone you’d kill to magnet.
Happy V-day to you and yours.
(Hell, if it’s just you treat yourself to cocktail hour (from 3-11pm) and a pound of bulk candies. I recommend the often overlooked Neopolitan wafer. It’s light in weight and therefore the most economical choice. Talk about more bang for your buck. Plus, they’re *effin* delicious.)
St. Robert Valentine, pray for us.
LJ
To learn more about Lady J click here.
