Spreading the VD cheer.

So, I'm wracking my brain for ideas to write about for Valentine's Day (the social disease of the holiday calendar). And I guess I'm just not that romantic or something.

Typically, my idea of a romantic VD date was to bring the wife a Hershey bar (more chocolate for less moola), a miniature rose bush we could plant (which never seemed to do well considering we had four black thumbs between us), and all this fabulousness that is me (belch- excuse me).

I tried cooking her a special dinner a couple of times, but she begged me not to do that anymore as I somehow managed to dirty up every pot and pan in the entire kitchen (and what I did to the stove doesn't bear mentioning) and she didn't agree with my "bleach every fucking thing" cleaning solution. (You really, really don't want to know what went on when I tried to help with the laundry. In my defense, men's "tighty whitey" underwear can and should be bleached.)

So, I don't know. I bethought myself, "you know what? Let's check the HT and see if anybody there could recommend the 'perfect date' for Valentine's to woo and win a fantabulistic night of soaked panties."

Dressing up in a monkey suit is, I guess, always a plus.

Dinner out, I suppose, for those of us orderly challenged in the kitchen. Or maybe order in.

Maybe a ballet or some other chick entertainment guaranteed to put anyone afflicted with machismo to sleep.

Chocolate, rose petals, and jewelry worth about half of last month's paycheck. (ETA; how the fuck did I forget stuffed animals?)

SOMETHING delivered to her work where the gals will be gossiping about what they got from their guy so she isn't left out.

Still not sure just who the gift of lingerie is supposed to be for.

And, of course, if at least two hours of uninterrupted multi-orgasmic sex (for her, dumbass!) isn't involved, I would argue that it just isn't in the spirit of the holiday. Feathers, leather, a single long stem rose (still with the thorns for those with a fetish), dildos, vibrators, maybe a heart shaped butt plug...

Any road, what am I missing? How do you go about setting up the perfect romantic VD evening, if there is such a thing?

Did some checking and apparently if you live together it's a bad thing if you don't do a little something bright and ugly in the morning. Apparently, if you don't do something before she hustles off to work, she starts off the day stressed out because she thinks you forgot or something.

I didn't know that. I mean, I did it. Sure.

At first, it was easy because I was working the overnights and I would wake her up coming home in the morning.

When I changed to become a daywalker, I set a silent alarm with an electrical wire wrapped around my penis to wake me not long after she should have fallen asleep (typically around twoish) and set up a little something for her to discover when she woke up. A rose and a card perched on her snooze button or something.

But, I didn't know that was to avoid a serious faux pas.

Man, am I behind the times or what?! Apparently, according to this article, roses are passé.

I mean, I sort of knew better than to wait until the day before Valentine's before ordering the flowers or balloons or whatever. (Unless the plan is to stop by the cemetery to pick up a passel.) But, since when the hell did Roses become "an over thing."

Whoa! Hang on. Did that at the bottom say "How to make a bouquet of bacon roses?"

Though I will admit I expected something entirely different when I read the title, I think you've truly captured the spirit of the holiday.

A day where expectations are set, rules are unclear, situations are varying constantly, and the chances to screw up are scattered around like a minefield.

So, pretty much, same as every day.

Carry on.

indiesoul said:

--snip--Later when I was going to bed, there was a knock at my door. It was my friend with a cheap box of chocolates and a cheesy card he picked up at a gas station. He got in his car and drove to be with me as soon as we got off the phone earlier.

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Ok, now THAT is cool!

So, yeah. A tux is obviously a winner for a night on the town with the lady. I mean, that is obvious, right?

But, considering we've already spent half of last months paycheck on frilly froufrou like that ridiculous dead vegetation we can't eat, what's left to go rent (much less buy) a tux if we don't already have one in the closet?

(As a matter of fact, I did. And it was a pain in the ass to sneak it out to get it retailored every year. Until we reached the point "I can only let it out so much, man!")

But, what else have we got in the closet to offset the ubiquitous Little Black Dress?

One year, for giggles and snorts, I got duded up in my motorcycle leathers (chaps, jacket, and vest) with a dress shirt and leather tie. Thank God I married a woman with a sense of humor (although I think that was pretty well a prereq).

But, if you don't wear the monkey suit every day, it's probably pretty important to get it out at least a couple of weeks prior to the V-Day beach landing, isn't it? I mean, is a rumpled ill-fitting suit (why the fuck did I eat so much over the holidays?) with dust lines on the shoulders really all that much better than the every day blue jeans?

Although, back years ago, I did pull off a pair of Levi Strauss 501s with a sports jacket and tie, that probably doesn't work these days, does it? At least, not as well as dressing to impress.

My favorite Valentine's Day was last year. My husband and I had been arguing a lot and I was feeling really bad about it. I was at work that day, and there was a delivery man with flowers who came into the room. There were about six of us there and he says, ma'am, these are for you. So of course I turn around to see who he's talking to, but there's no one behind me. So I turn back, and asked "You mean me" He says yes.

I've had flowers before, but for some reason, those flowers remain the most precious to me, they were unexpected, and i know they came from his heart. That was one of the beginnings of our reconnection.

PuckIt said:

Man, am I behind the times or what?! Apparently, according to this article, roses are passé.

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I love how they asked a florist how much people should spend on flowers. Completely trustworthy unbiased source of information there ;-)

Bramblethorn said:

I love how they asked a florist how much people should spend on flowers. Completely trustworthy unbiased source of information there ;-)

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Right? I'm a bit surprised he actually was as... oh, crap... c word. Damn it. I swear I should have chosen the screen name "Glitch".

Any road, I'm a bit surprised he didn't push for the hard sell more than he did being a purveyor of plant pudenda. (Can I say "purveyor" since we don't actually eat the plants in question?)

LanguageOfLove said:

My favorite Valentine's Day was last year. My husband and I had been arguing a lot and I was feeling really bad about it. I was at work that day, and there was a delivery man with flowers who came into the room. There were about six of us there and he says, ma'am, these are for you. So of course I turn around to see who he's talking to, but there's no one behind me. So I turn back, and asked "You mean me" He says yes.

I've had flowers before, but for some reason, those flowers remain the most precious to me, they were unexpected, and i know they came from his heart. That was one of the beginnings of our reconnection.

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That is pretty cool, LoL, that he did that for you and it meant as much as it did to you. Enough that you mark it as a starting point for turning your relationship around.

But, I do wonder, and this is an honest curiosity, if the delivery in front of other people shaded your feelings.

What I'm driving at is; IS it better for the guy to arrange for a delivery with an audience to witness than it would be to give the same thing in private from the gal's perspective for those Romeo's already going "Shit, do I really need to order them THIS early? It's still like a whole month away! And cash and carry doesn't have the additional delivery fee, damn it."

I suspect this is probably going to be one of those "depends" things. Sort of like that embarrassing birthday thing where the waiters and waitresses gather around the table and make a spectacle because some dickhead in the party slipped them the info. (And yes, in fact, I do hate that shit. So, sue me. "It's my party and I can be a grumpy old coot if I choose, damn it!")

PuckIt said:

That is pretty cool, LoL, that he did that for you and it meant as much as it did to you. Enough that you mark it as a starting point for turning your relationship around.

But, I do wonder, and this is an honest curiosity, if the delivery in front of other people shaded your feelings.

What I'm driving at is; IS it better for the guy to arrange for a delivery with an audience to witness than it would be to give the same thing in private from the gal's perspective for those Romeo's already going "Shit, do I really need to order them THIS early? It's still like a whole month away! And cash and carry doesn't have the additional delivery fee, damn it."

I suspect this is probably going to be one of those "depends" things. Sort of like that embarrassing birthday thing where the waiters and waitresses gather around the table and make a spectacle because some dickhead in the party slipped them the info. (And yes, in fact, I do hate that shit. So, sue me. "It's my party and I can be a grumpy old coot if I choose, damn it!")

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I usually am not a huge lover of flowers, they don't last long and they are very expensive, but he brought me the things that I liked...the candies, the special coffee cup, the snacks, and they were artificial flowers, he knows I like those, they last forever.

I was a little taken aback at the cost, I know it must have been expensive, but it still just mean so much to me. I have to let him know what I want this year....maybe not flowers, but a different kind of memory...one not so expensive

So, LoL's post got me to thinking... I know, I know. "Oh, shit." Any road, I got to thinking and went and did some checking. (What passes for "research" for me these days.)

As I said yesterday, it's generally considered a VD faux pas to not do SOMETHING in the bright and ugly before she goes out into the cold cruel world for her job. However, the exact same sources then say that us macho type Casanova wannabes should then make sure we do SOMETHING for her while she is at work. If you don't pull down a pretty serious paycheck, it's going to put a cramp in the posterior (the side where the wallet is carried) to buy all that much plant pudenda and so forth. (A dozen roses here, two dozen there and before you know it, you are talking a chunk of change.)

(And seriously?! $448 MILLION spent in America on chocolate candy alone? Are we abso-fucking-lutely sure a decimal didn't get misplaced somewhere?)

Any road, I got to looking and apparently all these years, I've been screwing up the day right from the first stretch and yawn and snooze button slap. The flowers and card shouldn't be strategically placed on the alarm snooze button so she sees it when she first wakes up. Instead, a nice breakfast delivered in bed on a lap tray is recommended. These guys have obviously not seen the damage I can do to a kitchen when the mood is upon me. (Can anyone recommend a way to get soot off the drywall? On the upside, the hockey team wanted the cookies I was trying to make.)

When I was working nights and on my way home on VD morning to wake her, I would stop off and buy some Kolaches and a mucho grande caffafrappacappumochalattechino for her. Thank God the pimple faced snot nose behind the counter actually knew us and could decipher my garbled mangling of her preferred "coffee" order. (I did actually try to learn it, much to her hysterical laughter, but when it takes a full eighty seconds just to place your single cup of coffee order... I swear if there was actual coffee in it, you couldn't prove it by me. Then again, I actually like Cowboy Coffee.) But, that was just something I did. I didn't know I was somehow "doing the right thing to make her day special."

(Should I have put the monkey suit on to serve breakfast, I now wonder?)

So, the flowers, balloons, singing monkey-gram or whatever should be delivered at work so that her coworkers can be envious of her swag, from what I'm able to glean.

Actually... About fifteen years ago (I think) I managed to get my hands on a fake rose that stood about four feet tall, a poster sized three foot wide (when it was opened) card, put on my tux, and carried my "boom box" with an instrumental accompaniment cassette loaded up to her job (she was a commercial teller at a bank) and caused a bit of a stir as I made a complete and utter ass of myself by singing (for some definitions of singing) about just how little I knew right in the big middle of the bank lobby. After that debacle, I pretty much let the professionals do the dirty work if and when I decided to give her coworkers something to turn green about. (When you've got a voice like Barry White, DON'T pick a song by Aaron Neville! Much less a duet he did with Linda Ronstadt!)

I don't know. Maybe it's "first world problems" of those who are actually shacked up together so she has access to her guy while he's asleep. And vulnerable. Maybe it's not so big a decision to schedule when to do what once the "when she first wakes up, before she puts her face on" is removed from the day planner.

Valentine’s Day is bullshit.

I’d be happy being woken up with his head between my legs and no reciprocation needed.

Flowers are nice but they’re overpriced on V Day. I’d like them the following weekend so I can enjoy them because I don’t be at work.

And honestly, everything about the day is commercialized bullshit. Stressing this much over it isn’t worth it IMO. If a woman expects a celebration for this and gets genuinely mad if she doesn’t get one, I’d have to rethink my choice of women.

AveryElle said:

Valentine’s Day is bullshit.

I’d be happy being woken up with his head between my legs and no reciprocation needed.

Flowers are nice but they’re overpriced on V Day. I’d like them the following weekend so I can enjoy them because I don’t be at work.

And honestly, everything about the day is commercialized bullshit. Stressing this much over it isn’t worth it IMO. If a woman expects a celebration for this and gets genuinely mad if she doesn’t get one, I’d have to rethink my choice of women.

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I like the way you think.

Waking yourself up choking on vomit kind of sucks. Not in any hurry to try again, so thought I'd check in and do some more research.

And, if you think that is allegorical, then I won't stop ya.

AveryElle said:

Valentine’s Day is bullshit.

I’d be happy being woken up with his head between my legs and no reciprocation needed.

Flowers are nice but they’re overpriced on V Day. I’d like them the following weekend so I can enjoy them because I don’t be at work.

And honestly, everything about the day is commercialized bullshit. Stressing this much over it isn’t worth it IMO. If a woman expects a celebration for this and gets genuinely mad if she doesn’t get one, I’d have to rethink my choice of women.

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Noted!

So. How you doin'?

(Just kidding, kiddo. You don't want to dance with my ghosts. And I really do value the input.)

pvt_addiction said:

I like the way you think.

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Ok. But, can you do push-ups with your tongue and breath through your ears?

**eyes avatar and decides this power of greyskull looking motherfucker probably can and it might be best to shut the fuck up now and move on since I can't remember the last time I managed a full extension arm pushup but I'm pretty sure it wasn't this decade**

So, anywhoo...

indiesoul said:

I prefer the private deliveries. The most memorable time I received flowers was when I was a couple of months postpartum with my oldest daughter. I was home and barely heard a quiet knock at the door. I opened it to find the sweetest old man holding a bouquet of flowers. He told me that he heard there might be a baby sleeping so he tried to be extra quiet, and gave me a hug because it looked like I was having a rough day. The sweet delivery man was just as perfect as the unexpected flowers from my husband!

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Ok, now that was cool. Not too sure about the "rent-a-hug" aspect since I think I'd most likely be hoping to collect any squishing myself. But, ok. So, private delivery instead of public was bueno in at least this case.

They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

I'm starting to wonder, however, if that isn't more true for women. Why else would we tend to focus so much on working a meal (or at least a snack of some sort) into dates?

And I've always kind of wondered if that isn't just a little counter intuitive.

I mean, think about it. So, a guy is hoping to have sex with a gal later. So, what does he do? He feeds her. And then he's going to bounce up and down on her belly? Seriously? I don't know a damn thing not being female myself, but I don't figure that would be an especially sexy feeling.

Pretty much if she ordered the 72oz steak (with shrimp cocktail, baked potato, salad, and a couple of rolls), I figured I probably wasn't getting lucky.

Yet, everything I have run across has insisted on incorporating food into the "perfect Valentine's date."

Breakfast in bed. Or, if you don't live together, stopping by with a breakfast to go. (I guess if you are close enough she doesn't mind you seeing her with the green shit on her face with white mustache removal cream smeared below her nose? I would say "in her curlers," but I'm not sure anyone actually sleeps in those anymore.)

One wag suggested a lunch date to avoid the whole evening press. (Not sure if they intended the pun or if I'm just that juvenile.) I don't know. Am I just dumb? We pick her up from work, which she only has an hour to eat something, and wend our way through traffic. Call it ten to fifteen minutes to get to anywhere worthwhile depending on traffic. Another ten minutes or so for them to get the food on the table in front of us depending on what is ordered. Have to allow for ten to fifteen minutes to get back. So, that leaves what? Twenty minutes to choke down food as quickly as possible and try to carry a conversation while she knows she still has to go back for another four, five, or even six more hours? What am I missing that I just don't see this whole thing as sexy, seductive, romantic, or even enjoyable?

Dinner was always the go to for me. And, honestly, it really was more so we could take our time, relax, and enjoy ourselves than because I was looking forward to what might (or might not) happen after a dessert involving seven different kinds of chocolate. (Can't remember the real name of it, or even what restaurant we got it from, my wife and I just always laughingly referred to it as "death by chocolate, but what a way to go.")

Any road, I guess there is pretty much four choices for the whole wine and dine checkbox on the "perfect date" checklist.

Dining in - Candle light with the fancy flatware we hardly ever use. The undivided attention of each other. No waiter or waitress stopping by during the most inconvenient moment. What can go wrong? (If, that is, the guy can actually burn grub and have it come out edible. Or has the sense to recognize his limitations and has a few delivery choices on speed dial.)

Restaurant - As a basic rule of thumb, if there was more than one fork wrapped in a paper napkin involved, I would typically start trying to make a reservation now (one month early). But, I've often wondered over the years if at least part of the allure of this whole scene is to see and be seen. I mean, what other reason is there to get gussied up and go traipsing out into a crowd of sixty or seventy people the waiters and waitresses are trying to rush through the meal so they can clear the table in time for the next forty reservations?

Picnic - Risky business around these parts. Twice in my life I've seen over a foot of snow on VD. About five or so, I've seen the mercury hit seventy-five. Usually, it's more in the fifties and sixties neighborhood. There is always a chance of wind or, much more rare, rain. And then there are the unwanted crashers that slither, skitter, or crawl. Not common in Fib-uary, no. But, not unheard of either.

Indoor Picnic - The fallback plan I've usually had for the picnic is to just do the same thing in the living room floor. Which, when we had a fireplace, with a cheery fire burning on the hearth, was a damn fine second choice as far as I was concerned.

For myself, I tended to carb load the night before up through lunch and eat lighter than usual on the evening and stay away from alcohol of any sort. Not because I was a cheap ass (too late for that by this point), but because I wanted to have lots of energy and be in complete control of all my faculties for later. Assuming there was a later.

Food That Says "Sexy."

You're not bored yet? Me either. Or rather, we are and there's nothing else better on (which is difficult to believe). Or something.

So, anyway, after the bitch drug me out of bed to let her outside to pee at one o'fucking clock in the morning with the thermometer reading 20, but the wind chill factor -4 (a one hundred pound dog is a bit hard to ignore when she jumps on your chest and starts licking your face... and I'd rather she do that than have to clean the carpet), having a hard time going back to sleep. At least until I stop shivering. So, why the hell not spread a little VD happiness?

And I guess my early post was all crap, or at least the part about restaurants, since I found some research that says 75% of respondents thought a meal out at a restaurant was the more romantical option. Hey, I admitted right from the get go I had pretty much figured out I didn't know from romantical.

But, this time, I was going a different direction and trying to figure out what foods scream sexy time since even I could figure a gravy smothered chicken fried mystery meat at "Dirty Joe's Roadkill Café" probably wasn't the way to go.

(Although, I had a really good time the year I took her to "Dick's Last Resort." But, at least part of that was her reaction since I didn't warn her ahead of time. Hey, I admitted earlier it was kind of a prereq that she had a sense of humor (or a really low self esteem) to settle for all this fabulousness that is me. *belch*)

Found an article that said that 49% of survey respondents went for Italian when it was time to bring the romance. "O solo mio!" (Uh, Brian? Where's your left hand?) Well, I guess I can see that. Spaghetti for two, mama! That's amore.

But, then the same article went on to bash Mexican and Sushi as horrible choices for a romantic dinner for two. Now, hang on a minute. What's not sexy about the seven bean nachos for two?

Of course, then the same article went on to say people would spend more on VD than any other time. Well, no shit? You needed a survey to tell you that? Oh! On just the meal portion. I get it.

However, they then went on to test out leveraging a dining coupon on that magical day for sexiness. And SIXTY PERCENT said saving money was the new sexy!

Well, shit. I wish I'd known that before I went shopping for flowers, chocolates, jewelry, stuffed animals, cards, lingerie, porcelain figurines, balloons, candles, music boxes, jewelry boxes, books, cds, dvds, gotten my tux refitted and cleaned,...

What to do? What to do?

Damn. I missed a day there. Sorry, guys. Had to go refill the condom dispenser on my belt and get my dildo shaped fairy wand out of the shop. Or had you not yet figured out "The Fuck-up Fairy" was filling in for "Stupid Cupid" for a bit?

So, anyway. You've tied on the feedbag at "The Roadkill Café" and slipped her some Mad Dog 20/20. It's time to move on to the entertainment for the evening. (Likely the only entertainment you are going to get if you really did take her to a local version of "The Roadkill Grill" for VD or thought Mad Dog was wine.)

"I got my kicks on Route Sixty-six!"

So, anywhoo, I hear you shouldn't plan on any belly bouncin' for at least... What was it, Jean?

Two hours.

Right. At least two hours.

So, whatcha gonna do while that delicious grub settles? Well, I did some checking, and you are not going to believe what I found.

1) Netflix - Are you kidding me?! It's VD! That special day to do something special (or at least give it a special try) for that special someone. And we're gonna do what we did Friday and Saturday for 48 of the last 52 weeks and Net Binge? Come on now!

(Although, the blanket fort like we used to build when we were kids and playing Strip Monopoly under it while we binge ignore romantical chick flicks straight off Lifetime does have a certain something something.)

2) Get back to nature. - I was all aquiver until I figured out they were talking about taking a hike or taking the canoe out on the lake.

Then, my second thought was of my buddy Tom out wasting gas one day. We were driving around out in the country for no damn reason I could see. So, I asked him about it. "What? I love nature. Don't you?" He had his window down and just as he finished that statement, he caught the ass end of a bee in his elbow that had been hanging out. While doing sixty-five miles per hour. "Ow! I fucking hate nature!" (Ten years later, I still laugh about that shit every time I think of it.)

My third thought is that this shit might be cool south of the equatorial line, or somewhere temperate. But, it's like 20 degrees around here with a negative wind chill. And we want to drag Princess there in her little black dress out mud dogging? Talk about the fucking cold shoulder! Sheesh.

Although, if you took her to the Road Kill Grill and gave her MD 20/20, I suppose you have nothing left to lose, so why the hell not? "Trucks gone wild, bitches!" Well, I did warn her I had only the dirtiest intentions.

3) Dancing - Oh, fuck me running. Fine, granny. Wheel your wheelchair on out there while I get my walker and we'll cut a rug.

I looked like a football fullback trying to juke a pursuer any time I tried to do that fast stuff and the slow stuff reduced me to shuffling my feet in a circle with my hands on her butt. But, if that's what she's into...

In my defense, I could fake a Texas Two-step enough to get by and pull a decent Cotton-Eyed Joe. Never did get the hang of that constipated chicken scratching for a worm thing, though.

4) Ballet - So let's let someone without two left feet and a walker do the dancing, right? Not! Sorry, but I'm just not wild about hanging out and watching some guy better endowed than me do that "tree bending in the wind" shit in tights. Still, I suppose it does have some possibilities.

5) Theater - Surely there's bound to be a production of "Cats" or something in driving range. (Be careful when buying the tickets for "Cats" however.) She can see a chick show. He can get in a nap to conserve energy for the important stuff later.

6) Opera - Do I really need to say anything? Ah, well. If she's into that miserable shit.

"It's 'Les Miserable'."

That's what I said.

7) Movie Theater - Why not? Who knows what might happen in a darkened cinema?

8) Wine tasting at a local winery - Okay. Now we're talking. Get her sloshed.

You know what? On more mature reflection, Netflix Binging from the couch doesn't sound quite so bad.

What did I miss?

PuckIt said:

Damn. I missed a day there. Sorry, guys. Had to go refill the condom dispenser on my belt and get my dildo shaped fairy wand out of the shop. Or had you not yet figured out "The Fuck-up Fairy" was filling in for "Stupid Cupid" for a bit?

So, anyway. You've tied on the feedbag at "The Roadkill Café" and slipped her some Mad Dog 20/20. It's time to move on to the entertainment for the evening. (Likely the only entertainment you are going to get if you really did take her to a local version of "The Roadkill Grill" for VD or thought Mad Dog was wine.)

"I got my kicks on Route Sixty-six!"

So, anywhoo, I hear you shouldn't plan on any belly bouncin' for at least... What was it, Jean?

Two hours.

Right. At least two hours.

So, whatcha gonna do while that delicious grub settles? Well, I did some checking, and you are not going to believe what I found.

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LOL, your reflections of these VD activities made me laugh...still laughing. Netflix isn't so bad if you put in a romantic movie...boom chick a wow wow...lol

I prefer dinner, footsies under the table of course, a movie....don't have to watch it....or why not go to a five star hotel and get a room for a night! that seems like it would be an amazing night. If that's too expensive, just light up some candles with some good ambiance in the bedroom...

Omg!

Almost forgot! Number nine; a concert! Can't go wrong with a concert!

Is that for me?

Despite my best efforts, I just couldn't resist slapping a Non-Erotic contest story up over on the story side. I'd actually finished it in mid to late December, but trashed it. However, it kept crawling out of my recycle bin no matter how many times I put it back there. Anyway, it crawled out and submitted itself (to my embarrassment) and I've moved on to something much more interesting. Which, if I get it finished in time, the particularly astute might notice I've cribbed shamelessly from the few responses I've gotten here.

- going "down there" with no need to reciprocate *check*
- five star hotel *check* ...

Anywhoo, I've got my pink tutu on with my utility belt strewn with condoms and am wielding my double dildo as a fairy wand, so let's get back to fucking up the impending Valentinocalypse.

*****

So, yeah. I guess it's probably a pretty good idea to get out the zoot suit to have it retailored (if necessary) and cleaned about now if we hadn't already. And it's probably a pretty good idea to go ahead and make the reservations at the restaurant and pick up tickets for the after dinner entertainment pretty soon from everything I'm able to glean.


Ooh! Business opportunity. Scalping dinner reservations!

Alright, so we've got the plan and the duds. Now, it's time to look at the whole gift thing a little more closely since we glazed over it earlier. So, I thought I'd start by fucking up... I mean, asking about "traditional gifts."

"Oh, is that for me?"

1) Flowers - Or as I like to call it "plant pudenda." Because nothing says sexy like a handful of plant pussies. Right? Am I right?

Once upon a time there was like this whole language surrounding flowers. I tried to do some looking into that at one point and it wasn't just the number, type, and color of flowers in the bouquet, but which hand you offered them in and which hand the recipient took them with that was part of the message. Are you fucking kidding?! I threw my hands up in despair and went with "a dozen red roses means I want to do dirty things to you all night long."

Then the woman that lost all sense of reason and decided I was husband material let me know she didn't really dig the whole plant castration thing since they were just going to wither and die in a week or two anyway. So, I would buy rose bushes for us to kill together over the next few months. Eventually we moved on to carnivorous plants and had a little better luck.

I don't know though. There's enough smattering here and there to say flowers are still a go to even if that research I posted earlier in this thread says roses on VD are a done deal.

2) Chocolates - My gast is still well and truly flabbered about that $448 MILLION on chocolates in the U.S. alone. Are we absolutely sure there wasn't a misprint there?

Still, I guess chocolates are another mainstay of this impending "holiday." And why the fuck not? It's not like she's still sticking to that New Years Resolution she made even now anyway. Right? And if she is, she's probably pretty fucking cranky by now. So, slap her some chocolate.

And hey! Some research says if you feed her enough you might fool her into thinking it's you making her feel that way!

One five pound Hershey's Kiss coming right the fuck up!

3) Stuffed Animals - I admit, I totally don't get this one. If she's in her late twenties and thirties on up would she really like a teddy bear to cuddle up with? And where the fuck does that leave me?!

Oh. I guess I could have traded the monkey suit for a teddy bear suit.

4) Jewelry - Diamonds may be a girl's best friend, but do we really have to skip a car payment? Maybe we could just, you know, rent that shit for a night? No?

Back a couple of decades ago (maybe three?), I remember a guy (not me as it happens) deciding he was going to go all out and offer his gal the traditional diamond solitaire from bended knee on that mystical romantical day. She said, "not just no, but hell no." Lest ye think she was a bitch, she'd actually broken up with him a week or two earlier. But, dumbass figured he would go ahead and give her the ring on her front porch (since she wouldn't say yes to the date either) and she would like it so much she would say yes.

Yeah. Color me stupid, but I think James Avery is full of shit and the right jewelry (translation; more expensive than your house payment) doesn't necessarily fix everything.

5) Perfume - The only other "traditional" gift I can recall from my long and checkered past is stinkum. I don't know, but isn't that just sort of a veiled way to say "you stink, but I still want to get in your pants?" What the hell is wrong with soap and water (not that I would recommend those as a gift either, and for the same reason) and her natural body odor?

Or am I missing something?

6) Lingerie - Ok, just who the hell is this gift for? And yeah, I admit I did my fair share of prying her secrets out of Victoria's cold cruel judgmental hand to take home to the wife. But, I swear of all the scrimpy pieces of overpriced cloth I brought her over the years, her favorite was either a set of full silk pajamas that covered her from neck to ankle or an oversized so-fluffy-I'm-gonna-die robe.

I'm going to go out on a limb and hazard a guess that if you don't know her well enough to know her exact size, then this is probably not the best plan to go with.

So, I don't know. I can't recall any other so called "traditional gifts" that just screamed sexy to me. Is there anything I've forgotten? (Or would you like to correct just what it is I don't understand?)

I'll go for lingerie, my favorites though are the classy ones, the long satin night gowns, I think that accents the body just right, and I would buy it for him for valentines day, meaning that he's getting a nice gift....

I think a nice robe would be a lovely gift, don't have to worry about size and it would be just perfect.

My favorite gifts for VD's would be something hand made, like a coupon good for....or doing something for the significant other like cooking a home cooked meal over a candle lit table.

Every time I see this thread title my first thought is “venereal disease cheer?”

I thought the same thing.

I also didn't realize that men put so much thought into what to do for VD. Roses, diamonds, dinner and a movie. It's all good but I do hope the OP stays away from the Mad Dog. LOL

I have an idea for Valentines Day..

What about giving a gift card, only not for the store, but for a weeks worth of romantic nights in the bedroom.

In a perfect world, every day is VD for our wives, girlfriends, or what have you. A Giving a nice massage is my favorite way to end my lover's day, VD or otherwise....hello to you all...