Valentines Day Again

So yes, it's valen-shit day again. That time of year when so many of teh wimminz have a whimper and whine because they don't have a maaaaan...

...because they really need a man like a fish needs a bicycle...

...fuckin' mentally-disconnected fuckin' retards.

So this misanthrope, who knows what a crock of marketing shit that valen-shit day really is, wants no truck with the damn thing at all. My current squeeze is not getting squat unusual today, though I did respond to her text yesterday. She's all ga-ga that we've been "together" for a year.

It tells us something when a woman is all ga-ga about being in a relationship for a year. Not that she's objectionable, after giving her an earful for the times when she thoughtlessly sent messages when I'm working or trying to sleep. (The number of stupid bitches that I've had to send a "don't ever contact me after 9pm unless we're fucking" text. Unbelievable. High-stress work and stupidly-entitled bitches do not mix.)

After being called out this morning, I get into here and respond to a comment. During which I notice that right now, clicking on my posts brings up this cute little spray of hearts. Fuuuuck, ram it down my throat without asking, you wankers at Blogger. That's what you get when you use free software, tough shit for me.

Try not to get too distracted by the cutesy shit. I'm wondering if these wankers will start having cute little sprays of fucking unicorns next, shitting out rainbows, to show my involuntary support for the LGBTQ-fucking-whatever brigade.

So back to valen-shit day. I had the misfortune to hear (for a few minutes) some entitled bitch broadcaster on the radio having a surreptitious whine on the air about not having a man.

Her: "What am I doing for Valentines Day? Nothing. I can't be bothered any more, am too lazy."

Too lazy HAHAHAHAHAHH!!! Ex-fucking-actly. Women are too lazy to put any effort into things, so they miss out.

But more, lets translate this saying from woman-spin into reality: "What am I doing for Valentines Day? Nothing. I have no money and no man to spend money on me. Further, no man will give me the time of day. I don't attract men who are willing to do stuff for me like I used to, I don't know why..."

Now there is a bit of black truth for you, straight from teh wimminz's mouth. In a bit I will wash the schadenfreude down with a nice glass of ice-cold water (it's summertime in NZ and shit-awful hot). It's also damn awesome, looking out over the view from my deck, from under my sun-umbrella.

It's hard to believe that I've been writing all sorts of stuff up here for the past 4 years. Never thought that I'd have that many words in me to spill out.