Setting the record straight...again.

A re-post from last year. I know Laggin enjoyed it.

St Valentine's Day is a holiday in the Catholic and Eastern Orthodox traditions (celebrated on February 14th and sometime in July, respectfully) named after not one, but several men who were all martyrs when the Roman Empire was still the big cheese in the known world. Stabbed, maimed, fed to lions, crucified, beheaded, what have you, for worshiping a guy who pissed off the Pharisees and ended up dead on a cross two thousand years ago.

Oh, swoon.

I don't know what Geoffrey Chaucer was smoking, but he is the one to blame for this day being all romantical. (It's a word in the dictionary. Don't ask which dictionary, just take my word for it.) He lived and died in the Middle Ages when courtly love was popular. I define "courtly love" as "pretending to be in love with unattainable members of the opposite sex". As opposed to real love.

You still with me?? A holiday named after brutally murdered martyrs in honor of horny teenagers lusting after much-older married women.

And then Hallmark was born, heralding the Apocalypse and the End of Times. Head for the hills!!...

 It's friggin' snowing. Which irritates me, but it's not snowing in St Louis according to weather.com, so that doesn't really ruin my plans. I want to go with Fiance today to the Science Center to check out the dinosaur exhibit they have going on. Something about a feathered dinosaur...google it. We were gonna go yesterday, but he got almost no sleep the night before, so I spared him and went to a wine tasting with Becks and hung out at her house all day.

Tomorrow I plan on taking Becks and Sayrah out for lunch, because their significant others are on the other side of the world right now and can't be here to celebrate this commercial holiday with them.

And now I leave you all to place my freshly-washed jeans into the dryer.

Happy Sunday.

About my hangovers...

...they're totally not as awesome as I thought they were. I was OBLITERATED Saturday night. I puked when I got home, and puked again in the morning, had to take Pepto several times throughout the day to calm my churning belly, and had a pounding headache by 5 PM when we headed over to Becky's for the Super Bowl. Fiance was a sweetie and took care of me. It'll be a while before I drink like that again...

In other news, Dee has confirmed that the fetus she is carrying in her abdominal region bears a penis. Because of said penis, Dee's husband now insists that he is more entitled to choose the name. She happily informed me that she has an ultrasound photo of the penis. Good for you, Dee. Now let's plan a friggin' shower!!

Tomorrow, I set out to buy a Valentine's Day present for Fiance. I meant to get it today during my lunch break, but instead went to play with my friend Branc's six-month-old kitty named Trudy who likes to sit on his shoulder while he walks around his apartment. I wish my kitty would do that...SoCo, that is, not Simi. Simi is too large. Branc related to me how once in the middle of the night, around 3 AM, Trudy decided she wanted to play, so she sat on his chest and proceeded to smack him across the face for a while.

I promised some recipes a while back. I will be posting those, I'm just too lazy right now. The end.

Fun-filled day of action planned with the ladies.

I made a new friend the other night. Her name is Carrie, and her boyfriend the Sprint Salesman (ha ha...I'll tell that story one day) is a drinking buddy of the Fiance's. I'm gonna pick her up this  morning, then pick up Becks, then finally Dee. I volunteered to be the driver today because we plan on going to a Corgi rescue place in the city across the river, and while in the area I plan on making a stop somewhere to surprise a certain lady who is going through a rough time.

First things first, though...breakfast at IHOP to celebrate Dee's new job!! It's a lot of money, a lot of travel, and we're all stoked for her. I like to think I had a hand in talking her into it, ha ha. After breakfast is when we'll head across the great river to see some Corgis and surprise some peoples. Then we'll head back this way so I can get my hair did (red streaks, red streaks, red streaks...) and hopefully get my awful-looking nails done.

So the east coast is being slammed with snow right now, which I'm only aware of way out here in the midwest because I have too many east coast "pals" on the Facebook and it's all they're talking about in their status updates. This morning I woke up to see about two dinky inches of snow, but that wind is not playing around. It whistled alllllll niiiiiiight and is now whistling allllll moooooorning, and it's making me want to punch a baby.

Dear Wind,

Please stop fucking whistling right the fuck now before I go on a baby-punching rampage. kthxbi

Love,
Dread Pirate Davi

Fun fact about the Dread Pirate Davi: Her hangovers do not consist of headaches, nausea, and a burning desire for death. They instead consist of a very intense thirst and a very, very, very intense hunger. On Thursday, I ate mozzarella sticks and curly fries from Arby's before cleaning off a plate at Houlihan's consisting of an 8 oz filet mignon, asparagus, and mashed taters. And I was still somewhat hungry after. Moral of the story: Hangovers are bad for my waistline and my bladder.

The end.