I've been thinking a lot about Valentines Day and water buffalo lately ... well mostly just Valentines because Hallmark has pod-peopled the media elites into running mass "smoochy woochy" campaigns on their television channels, magazine covers, etc. thereby brainwashing everyone into thinking they need to buy those god-AWFUL tastin'-like-chalk mini hearts that say things like: I LUV U or B MINE.
I really hate those conversation candies because I think the word "you" should always be spelled out and never abbreviated with just a letter because that's such a backwards way of saying, "I'm sleeping with your best friend." I mean, if you think about it, doesn't your beloved deserve all of "you?"Not just some half-buttocked letter "u" that looks like a horse shoe, which naturally lends itself to the animal, horse, which looks a great deal like a donkey. So, in essence, these candy hearts are saying: "I LUV U you donkey." But ohhhh! How romantic.
And don't even get me started on what these candy hearts are doing to our nation's youth. I visited Mrs. Munford's first grade class last week and sat in on a Spelling Bee, and can I just say: APALLED. Candy hearts are short-changing the English language, and in effect, retarding the future leaders of America.
Thirty years from now there will be press conferences between the leaders of the U.S. and Italy. Italy will have a monarchy by then, so their King will say something rather intelligent and thoughtful, and there will be a grave pause as the U.S. World Wrestling Federation Champion -- because the U.S. electoral process will grow to emulate the proceedings of the WWF -- will look pensive while scribbling something on a piece of paper.
The U.S. WWF champ then will avert eye contact as he/she giggles and passes the paper to the King. When the paper is accepted, the champ will scream shrilly and run out of the room with the Secretary of Defense, laughing. Conclusively, we will look like mondo chumps! Why? Because those conversation candies block blood flow to the brain and irreparably damage kids by making them sentimental lamewads that spell like they're the cookie monster. WWF Madame President Champs included.
Furthermore, bathroom stalls everywhere reek of candy-heart influenced grammatical travesties: "I LUV DIK"? Well, Robert most assuredly does not love you -- learn how to spell and stop eating nasty candy hearts that rot your teeth and your mind. Vandalize with dignity.
St. Valentine's three remaining bones are rolling in their sarcophagus somewhere because the spirit of Valentine's has been reduced to horrible candy hearts that people put in gaudy plastic dishes on their coffee table. Valentine's Day is supposed to be about getting shot through the heart with an invisible arrow by a naked baby with wings.
At least, I think Cupid is a baby. He looks like a baby, and he's sometimes depicted in Pampers. However, I know if I strapped wings on my baby cousin, she definitely would not take flight let alone have the frame of mind to decide who should fall in love with whom. She'd most likely cry and perhaps wet herself, while some poor forlorn seamstress in Milwaukee flounders as the man of her dreams slips through her ironically nimble fingers.
Cupid is probably of the Emanuel Lewis/Gary Coleman variety, and actually is middle-aged and slightly perverted. His nudity isn't so much a symbol of the purity of love. Guys who wear trench coats in parks and flash the unfortunate female jogger are not subjugating themselves to metaphorical interpretation. They are randy perverts. Cupid can get away with showing his goods because he is a skillful archer who looks like the Gerber baby.
Sometimes I wonder about Cupid. Like, what would happen if he shot 10 arrows at the same person? Would that provoke spontaneous libido combustion? Or would that person just go around skipping and wearing pastels forever? What if my eyelids cramped when I blinked and got stuck? Would I be immune to Cupid? His powers depend upon vision, and if my eyelids were terminally cramped I could rush Cupid without fear of repercussion and piñata smash him to the ground and take his arrows. Or what if Cupid wore a business suit and tie, and maybe shades, and started looking like Danny Devito?Would Valentines be the same?
The point is: Valentines Day and water buffalo have nothing to do with each other because Valentines is species inclusive. It's all about the people puckering. All other holidays at least attempt to break down the animal/human barrier by mascoting something furry and relatively cute which acts as a peaceful bridge between our two worlds. I mean, when you're cutting down rain forests left and right and parading around in cow hide and mink, you better put a reindeer on a Christmas bulletin or some woodlands creature is going to strike.
Easter has a bunny, Thanksgiving has a turkey, and President's Day has an old billy goat (helloooooooo Jackson). Valentine's Day can have a team of water buffalo that will be used to surround wily girls and boys who try fleeing Cupid.
Like you spy that hovering Gerber gorilla archer out of the corner of your eye and you just know he's going to love connect you to some Milwaukee seamstress who eats conversation candy, so you dart behind a corner and cardiovasculate a couple blocks until you're sure that nipple exposing pervo is gone. But before you can breathe a sigh of relief you hear a steady rumble, and a glass of water on the dashboard of a colorfully painted jeep trembles. NOOOO!It's the Valentines Water Buffalo, and they surround you lickety-split. Before you can scribble "UR HOT" down on a piece of paper, Cupid bullseyes your heart with ten arrows. If you're lucky your eyelids will cramp.
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!
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