Love is in the air
I fucking hate Valentine’s Day. Every year it’s the same shit, expensive flowers, expensive chocolates, expensive wine that never seems to taste as good as the cheap shit you normally drink and, worst of all, the feeling that no matter what you do to please your missus, she always seems a little bit disappointed with your efforts. Last year it was the card. After spending the equivalent of East Timor’s GDP on a bunch of poxy roses, I thought I’d save myself a couple of Euro and get her a crude but funny card instead one of those big, flowery, glitterly cards that has a strange way of making you feel like a total sap when you get to the counter.
So when I got home I gave her the flowers and the chocolates and she seemed very happy until she opened the card. Turns out she thought we had “moved on” in our relationship and said I should be able to express my love for her in a mature and articulate way. Obviously, she didn’t see the maturity in buying a card that had a condom stapled to the inside (safe sex, right?) and felt “let down” by my boyish attitude. We didn’t talk much over dinner but we ate up, drank up and went upstairs. Although we did have sex that night it was only because we felt obligated to. She rolled over to go asleep as soon as we were done and I began to wonder if that was what it felt like to sleep with a hooker. Since she was already snoring I found myself thinking some more about the day and about how much money I spent and I also started thinking about how much it would’ve cost for a half-decent hooker. From what I’ve heard I guessed it would be in and around €150-€200. The cogs in my brain began to turn and I jumped out of bed to call my mate Gumbo who’s a right dirty cunt and would be up for anything, even at 1am.
It didn’t take much persuasion to get Gumbo on board with my plan. He is, it should be noted, an ugly, smelly bastard with a serious weight problem so he doesn’t get it on very often. Actually, as far as I’m aware, you could count his conquests on one finger, and you certainly won’t find him bragging about that “woman” either. Gumbo told us after that he thought he must have inadvertently taken some acid the previous night because he kept getting flashes of what looked like a gorilla in his mind when they had sex. Poor cunt.
Anyway, when I met with Gumbo I explained that I hadn’t any money on me and that my bank account was also cleared out from buying all the Valentines crap. “Say no more” he said, “Your old pal Gumbo is here to the rescue”. He asked me how much it would be for the sex and I told him it would be around €200. “I’ll tell you what” he said, “I’ll give you €250, but only if I can do her up the ass”. “It’s a deal”, I said, “that’ll surely cover the cost of the flowers and chocolates I bought her…”
“…And she might learn to be a bit more fucking grateful next year!”
February 13th, 2008 at 9:31 pm
Perhaps the reason you hate Valentines day is because you spend your day reading the shite posted on that cowardly idiots “blog”.
My advice would be: Get a life you Twenty slave.
Bald Devil loves you all.
February 13th, 2008 at 10:05 pm
Violate my comment policy, will ya?
Bald devil can suck my balls.
February 14th, 2008 at 7:59 am
Good Morning, H.
Well you did bait me didn’t you?
Anyway, I only tried to defend myself and it looks like I succeded too much. The bottom line here is that he never should have taken offence to the signature of “Bald Devil loves you all”. After all, its not like I used to say “Bald Devil thinks you are an asshole” every time is it?
I really don’t want to make a deal of this, but I do think that anyone who reads and enjoys what he writes (most of which is very well written, in fairness) and care about what he says or thinks, has to examine what they can and can’t believe. Hate to use the word “censorship”, but I think thats exactly what is going on here and as I am sure you would agree, it is never acceptable.
“I may not agree with what you say, however, I will defend to the death your right to say it” and all that…ect.
Take a look at the comment he left on my blog and tell me what you think.
Thanks for reading (if you have)
Bald Devil loves you all.
February 14th, 2008 at 8:52 am
I not particularly interested in the way Twenty wants to run his blog, it’s really none of my business. Having said that, if it was my blog, I would have done the very same thing. Having read your comments over the past few days, I can certainly see why you pissed him off so much. Comments, in their very nature, are provided so that you can give/receive feedback on the topic in question. If someone abuses the comments system then why shouldn’t they be banned?
Many of Twenty’s readers have built up a rapport with himself and each other and there’s been a fair bit of slagging between them in the past. But there’s a line between harmless insults and open abuse and you crossed that line and made an fuckin asshole out of yourself. If you can’t see that then I guess you need to work on your social skills. You are the online equivalent of the obnoxious drunken prick at a party that just won’t piss off.
If you have valid input into anything I write on my blog, then by all means, feel free to comment. I’m not going to ban you for something that was done on another site, but if you do the same shit here you will get the same result.
H
PS. I’m not changing my comment policy. At least not until you redeem yourself
February 14th, 2008 at 9:26 am
Thanks for the prompt reply H.
I see that you are every bit as eloquent in your use of language as your mentor.
Enjoy your love-in, I wouldn’t want to break you up now..
Bald Devil loves you all.
February 14th, 2008 at 10:00 am
What exactly IS your problem BD?
I just said you were welcome to comment on my site, what more do you want? Honestly, I can’t understand it. I’ve offered you an olive branch, if you don’t want it, fine. Let’s just give it a rest one way or the other, I’ve got more important things to do than this shite.
Christ, the irony of this post title is fucking unreal.