Because it's hip to loathe this fucking pseudo-holiday. Doubly so if one is currently dating the Energizer Bunny.
It's weird to think how close I once was to getting married. If the proverbial fecal matter hadn't hit the oscillating blades in that relationship, I would be Mrs. Resident Dictator right now. Gives me the fucking hives just thinking about it.
On the other hand, our shipment of promotional condom packs that I designed arrived today, complete with very graphic illustrations of proper use. That's the most dick I've seen in fuck knows how many months. It's a Bad Sign(tm) when you realise that you are getting turned on looking at condom use instructions. It's almost enough to make a girl do the call-an-ex booty call.
I said almost. I might be horny, but I am neither that desperate nor that fucking stupid.
Not to mention I have seriously lapsed on the whole depiliation thing. Winter and single-chick status tends to discourage the urge to get my pubic hair ripped out with hot wax. Go figure.
Anywho, I am off to go drink myself silly with the Not-Gettin'-Any-Lately Posse, after which I will sacrifice a rat in effigy of a certain ex or two. Bitter, who?