I’ve been looking at a lot of crappy posts on Instagram – about Valentine’s Week – and most of them make as much sense to me as the extra “L” in “Taller.” And today, February the 8th, is supposedly “Propose Day.”
Dear Godmother of Holy Begonias.
TF is that?! Seriously? Propose Day? What if you want to propose to someone and you get really bad diarrhea and can’t leave the house and can’t text even, and you have to spend all day on the sweet pot, what then? Does that mean your shot at proposing to the one and only is over and done with and you have to wait a whole year to do your proposing? What if your uh, Valentine decides to find a new Valentine in the meantime? Oh, you’re so fried. Ooh, what if they come looking for you, and you can’t answer the door because you were losing the battle with your toilet paper?
Jesus. H. Macy.
Who comes up with these ideas? That are beyond ridiculous? I wanna get hold of this Saint Valentine dude and smack the badooshes out of him. Stupid. Stupid. And stupid. *smacks an imaginary dude on the head*
As if Propose Day wasn’t enough, there’s Chocolate Day. And Teddy Bear day. And What Not Day. And it’ll all be constant stream of couplefies on my Instagram feed. Canoodling and doing things that make you wish cell phones could detect extra-intimacy and automatically shut down with a warning message: GET A “ROOM-ER” ROOM AND TURN THIS DEVICE OFF.
Needless to say, like the Grumpy Grumperson that I am, I will be hating on Blah-lentine’s Day like cray (and doing makeup looks. Because that’s what I do. Create looks for girls-in-relationships so they can do their ten million date nights.)
This uh, Propose Day, I have a proposition for you: Don’t Encourage This Madness, Please?
I’ve managed to download a ton of movies and buy a load of caramel popcorn so I’m set for Sunday. What are your plans? Who else doesn’t see this point of all this ish?