My Ode to Valentine's Day

'Twas the night before Valentine's Day, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The paper hearts were hung by the bed posts with care,

In hopes that St. Valentine soon would be there;

The girls were nestled snug in their beds,

While visions of Beckham and Pitt danced in their heads;

And mamma in her snuggie, and I in my porn,

Had just settled down for a long cosmic horn,

When down from the yard arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the stairs I flew like a flash,

Hoping my pinky toe wouldn't get mash.

The moon on the breast of the brown-coloured snow,

Gave the lustre of rust to objects below,
 

 When, what to my bloodshot eyes should appear,

But a rasshole baby, with a big ass spear.

With the little old fart, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment he must be a prick.

More rapid than SARS his courses they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them hoes by name;

"Now, Pookie! now, Buffy! now, Ginger and Vixen!

On, Chardonnay! on Mercedes! on, Ginger and Blitzen!"

Happy Valentine's Day!

This ode is dedicated to all those poor boyfriends/husbands/baby daddys/FWB that just went out to Peoples and spent their paycheque trying to impress their lady friends for a made up corporate holiday.  Sucks to be you.  Good thing St. Patrick's Day is next month so you can drink some sense back into you.