I don’t get the moanin’ over Valentine’s Day.

There are about a zillion things to love about it, starting with those delightful little candy hearts. You could eat a thousand of them and then, due to their inherent chalkiness, anything you drink will taste incredible.

Even Boone’s Farm guzzled straight from the bottle while sitting under a bridge alone, sobbing. They’re magical and you can only get them this time of year.

Another thing: Valentine’s Day is an automatic day off from work, one of those gubmint holidays — like New Year’s Day, Labor Day and Corndog Day.

Instead of sitting at my desk pretending to answer the phone and typing random strings of letters on the keyboard for eight hours, in an attempt to accidentally monkey-style some Shakespeare, I shall observe the holiday as I always do: at home, drunk and making obscene phone calls to everyone in my address book.

I simply don’t understand how that doesn’t sound like a rockin’ good time.

But fine. I’ll address the three main concerns.

1. “It’s a stupid, made-up holiday to increase the sales of cards, candy, flowers and grain-based alcohol.”

Wrong. No.

A cursory knowledge of history will show that Valentine’s Day is a real holiday, dating back to the fifth century, celebrating the day St. Valentine drove the snakes out of Ireland. Everyone hates snakes, and now we don’t have to worry about them anymore. When we’re in Ireland.

The Irish peeps started celebrating right after they changed the signs for their villages. “Welcome to [Insert Irish Town Here]! Population: [Insert Number of Villagers.] Snake Population: None, Thank You Very Much.”

They were so happy about the new signs, they went home early, got drunk and busted out their quills to write taunts to the English about how St. Valentine had a snake or two for them.

The English (filthy-minded as ever) misread the gist of the letters and assumed the Irish were making overtures.

The next year, exactly to the day, the English took the day off, got hammered and busted out their quills to write obscene things on parchment to send to everyone in their address books.

This is where the Valentine came from. You just couldn’t make that shit up.

2. “The entire look of Valentine’s Day is cheesy.”

Wrong again, Batman.

Cheese is not part of Valentine’s Day; chocolate is. BAM!

And if by “cheesy,” you’re balking about the décor, I have three words for you: “pink,” “and,” “red.” It’s a classic color combination, one I wear often.

Pull the color wheel out of your arse and taste the rainbow. (I realize that statement doesn’t actually make any sense, but it is fun to say. Feel free to use it. Let’s move on.)

3. “I don’t have a date. I want to die. MAKEITSTOP, MAKEITSTOP, MAKEITSTOP.”

Or something to that effect.

Obviously, this is the biggest gripe about the holiday. But you always have a date, Whiney McSobberson: it’s Feb. 14th. Every. Single. Year.

And if you’d just focus on the history of the thing, you’d know Valentine’s Day is about changing the signs in your village, getting smash-drunk instead of working and sending obscene messages to everyone in your address book. This will invariably leads to some grab-ass, if you’re trying even a little bit. Just focus on the history, here, kids. Focus on the snakes.

…just a second, editor wants a word…

Oh.

Well.

Anyway, there are still those delightful little candy hearts and they’re awesome if you enjoy having your single ass taunted by something that tastes like chalk.

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