February 14, 2012
Awesome stuff that I would like to have for Valentine’s Day. Or any day, really. I’m totally not picky about the day.
Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, you guys, and I haven’t gotten The Hub ANYTHING yet.
Last year I got him a cockroach named Stevie J. Chevrolet, which was by far the most romantic gesture I have ever made.
And don’t worry, cuz although the cockroach was totally real, it doesn’t live with us. It lives in The Bronx Zoo. We just got a photo of him kinda like those photos of kids you get when you send money to Sally Struthers, or whoever the hell they have on those commercials nowadays. I have no clue because I have this thing called a DVR and I don’t watch commercials. I am not hip to anything that is advertised on commercials anymore. For all I know they have invented yet another better tampon that lets me not only play volleyball on the beach in a bikini, but also ride a white mechanical bull while wearing no pants at all, without even the slightest chance of an embarrassing accident. And here I am, totally missing out.
As far as Valentine’s Day is concerned, I’ll probably go the get-him-a-big-ass-pack-of -Twizzlers-and-call-it-a-day, route. This is not a bad gift for him, at all. Dude loves the Twizzlers.
And I am not a girl who has high expectations about this day either. I don’t really care about it and I usually tell The Hub that all I want is to go buy some clothes or something without hearing about how much money I spent. To me, that is the perfect Valentine’s Day gift.
The gift of shut-the-fuck-up.
If only they sold that at Amazon.com there would be happy people everywhere this Valentine’s Day.
And due to the fact that pretty much no matter what a guy gets his woman, she isn’t gonna be satisfied, Amazon could just do one of those things they do when you buy something and they suggest something else to go with it. For example: Let’s say that you get on Amazon and order your girlfriend a nice bathrobe. Well, when you are checking out, Amazon says “If you also order some Shut-The-Fuck-Up you save $3.00 on your total plus avoid a fight because your girlfriend is gonna think that this robe sucks balls.”
I think I’m a genius.
I KNOW I AM.
And although I am not a mushy Valentine’s Day kinda person, I will admit that there are a few gifts that I would accept with open arms, and probably even do “the dirty stuff” as a thank you for. I want these things pretty bad. But even though I tell The Hub about my desire for them, he just rolls his eyes and ignores me. I have yet to figure out if that is due to the fact that he thinks I am joking, or due to the fact that he just thinks that the things on my list are stupid.
But we ARE talking about the man who thought that THIS was stupid:
|This is the dead lizard that I wanted at a Flea Market in Austin.
The pain of not getting him still hurts. It hurts bad, you guys.
Dear Dead Lizard, I think about you every single day.
So here is a list of a few things that I would totally accept for Valentine’s gifts in lieu of all that other stuff that most girls want. And just in case The Hub is reading this, I want to be very very very super crystal shiny glassy clear: I. Am. Not. Joking. I also want to be clear that this is only a partial list. Partial, as in, like, 2% of what I actually want.
I’m trying to make my desires known, but I also don’t wanna overwhelm the man.
All of us ladies know that when it comes to things like lists of things we want, it’s best to dole the items out little by little so they don’t get overwhelmed and end up getting us none of them.
Baby steps, ladies.
Although I have mentioned this item MANY times before on this blog, it has yet to show up at my house.
So I am going to mention it again.
It is the majestic Cruzin Cooler.
And if I would have gotten this baby back when I first asked for it two years ago, I would have been happy with one. But now I want a whole train of them so my friends can ride around the neighborhood with me.
See what happens when you make me wait? My mind has time to dream up bigger and better things. Bigger and better and more expensive things.
I assume that most of guys know about my obsession for the unicorn bike. Or as I lovingly refer to it, the Bikeicorn.
I have been wanting one of these pretty bad for nearly a year.
And although The Hub likes to talk about how handy he is with tools and the building of stuff, he still refuses to build me one of these.
This is a really big-ass, pointy, hard, and bitter pill for me to swallow.
Why? Because there’s nothing that The Hub likes more that building something awesome that lots of people are gonna see, yet he still declines to build me the Bikeicorn, which is the one thing that he could build that would garner him the praise of thousands.
You can bet your sweet-ass I’d be riding this thing EVERYWHERE causing unbelievable envy in EVERYONE. And making people envious kinda rocks hard.
Aside from the whole Bikeicorn thing, my long-time readers also know that if there’s one thing squirrels hate, it’s me.
I don’t know why they dislike me because animals usually love me.
As I’ve said before, I’m like Snow White but more whorey.
Unless -of course- she was messing around with those dwarfs. If she was, then she’s totally got me beat.
But animals have always been drawn to me.
Except for when it comes to squirrels.
On more than one occasion, squirrels have tried to kill me, and my friend Cathy can attest to this. And I am soooo glad. Cuz sometimes my stories seem a bit outlandish, so it’s nice when there is someone to verify that yes, this shit does happen to me.
So since I like to go walking in the mornings with Cathy, and since the squirrels know my schedule and often try to coordinate murdery opportunities along my walking route, I would like to get this mask so I can freak the shit out of them and make them think I am their king and make a proclamation that they leave me the frick alone.
I want these bad.
Because I want to wear them in public and have people ask me “What are those?” To which I will reply “They’re Pickle FingersMuthafucka!”
And that’s all.
It’s really not that difficult to understand so let’s not over-analyze it. Okay?
This is so amazingly perfect for me that it’s like it was created with me in mind.
As a matter of fact, I refuse to believe that it wasn’t.
I imagine myself singing “The Jet Song” from West Side Story, and then eating a nice Enchirito and Mexican Pizza after I spork some bad guys in the sack.
This is it, you guys. This is the kinda stuff that makes me happy.
I don’t need roses and chocolates and fancy dinners. I just need to ability to fend off a would-be mugger with my pickle-fingered hands wrapped around a switchblade spork, and then celebrate by driving my Cruzin Cooler train filled with Modelo.
I am not a mysterious woman.
Not at all.
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