PEARL NECKLACES AND GENDER DIFFERENCES

So, now that Valentine's Day is over, I want to hear what your man did to piss off yesterday. 


Negative much? Yes. But it is what it is. Guys don't get it and they never will. I don't blame them. Valentine's Day is a bunch of baloney. But it's on the calendar, boys. Sorry, nothing we can do about it now! 


I know a lot of you had a wonderful, romance- and sex-filled holiday, but for the rest of you, give it to me, spill the beans! I want to hear about the Russell Stover box of "chocolates" he got you. Or the  teddy bear he grabbed on his trip to CVS to stock up on condoms and cigarettes. Or the "One Free Blow Job" construction paper coupon he made you.


Let's hear it, gals. I know there are some great stories out there! Don't be embarrassed! We've all been there. And it doesn't make him a bad guy. It just makes him a guy. I know you were disappointed but don't hold it against him. Use this blog to vent. We can all laugh about it then move on. He'll make up for it at Easter.

VENUS AND MARS SHOULD HAVE USED A CONDOM

So it's Valentine's Day! Even though I am single, I try not to be one of those anti-Valentines. I love watching my co-workers' husbands send them roses. I love seeing all the lovey-dovey facebook posts between couples. I favor sappy music on this day. I even wore red.

I know that fighting off the urge to wear black and mulch your co-worker’s roses in the blender can be tough for some of us on Valentine’s Day. But I really try to focus on the positive. It gives me a good feeling inside to know that all around me, there is love. 

And then the inevitable happens. That chunky little flying cherub finishes making his rounds spreading the love, and decides to pay me a visit.

"Hi, Jen. It's been a while. How have you been?"

I tell him I've been well, keeping busy, focusing on myself, blah blah blah.

Since Cupid's business is selling love, he's not buying it. And he sharply reminds me that no one is sending me flowers or cutesy-putesy emails today. That I won't be going home to open arms and a candlelit house. I'm going home to a smelly Beagle, a whiney cat and a lot of freelance work. He points out that I don't quite fill out my red sweater and my dress pants give me diaper butt.

"I know, cupid. But I've been putting myself out there. I’ve been trying, really, I have."

He slaps me with his bow, "You're not trying hard enough! What's with the hair? And you could have at least worn a little mascara today."

That’s when the switch flips. I grab the arrow out of his grubby mitts and stick it into the meaty part of his fat little ass.

"Go away, you wicked little imp. Everyone knows you're full of shit anyway."

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!