Hurt Squirrels
Fuck Sweetest Day
10/19/2002 3:55 AM
I hate that damn piss-poor excuse of a holiday. Not because I don't have a romantic bone in my body. Not because the greeting card companies have latched on to this obscure little thing and promoted the hell out of it (though it's close). It's because it always falls on my birthday or the nearest weekend.

Does Mark get to go out to a nice restaurant1 for his birthday? Only if he wants to wait three hours for a table. Bastards. All because some twisted old fruit from Ohio couldn't wait another two weeks to give candy to orphans.2

From now on, stay the hell home and just say no to Sweetest Day.

1. My definition of a nice restaurant is one where the staff doesn't force their cringe-inducing version of "Happy Birthday" on you; but that's another rant.
2. Yes, that's how this "holiday" got started.

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