Lookout For VD!!!

  It’s kind of like looking down that street that you know you shouldn’t go down. You’ve heard all the stories but you just can’t help yourself. There is no way you’re not going there, no matter what you tell everyone. The draw to it is, it’s, well it, it is what is dammit. Some time ago I wrote another piece on VD or rather about Cupid. Oh, what fond memories that brings up. Cupid, as I told you at the time, is the roman god of desire and love. Supposedly born of Venus and Mars or maybe Mercury either way Cupid was born of one of those match ups. Is it any wonder that they say that men are from Mars and women from Venus. That’s some cray stuff right?
  We all know that Cupid is a dirty rotten little prick, if you want proof, I said it. Yeah, you bet your sweet patootie I said it and still stand behind it today. Nothing you can say or will ever say will make me change my mind. Just look at a few facts in the matter, he maketh you lay down and do things a normal person would not regularly do unless they have been struck with that little pricks arrows. The best you can do is hope that the little bastards’ influence doesn’t last long enough to make you do something stupid. What could be stupid about doing things after he put an arrow through your heart? You Know I got an answer right? I will tell you, I saw something the other day that kind of fits. It said: I did a favor for my neighbor yesterday. When I was finished she said ‘Oh, I could marry you.’ I couldn’t believe it … You do something nice for someone and they threaten to to ruin your life in return … never again! … I gotta tell you that’s just one of the of things that can happen when that dirty rotten little prick lands one of those arrows. All I can say about that is, what the hell were they thinking when they, made, well you know what happens, when … yeah that. Ugh, how could they, right. Makes you want to find Mr. Peabody and get in his WABAC machine, and, and make sure Mars wears his hat, if you know what I mean. One things is for sure, I guess we’d finally put to rest the instigation that perhaps it was Mercury that forgot his hat. Then again, that would just ruin the whole men are from Mars and women are … well you know the saying.
  Sure all this talk about how much men and women are different only gets weirder if in fact it was Mercury that sired Cupid with Venus. Mercury was the god of financial gain among a few others, messages, communication, luck and, oh yeah, trickery. Hmm, maybe it does make better sense that Mercury is cupid’s father. Cupid is a fast little bastard, devious, tricky, and a few other things that might be better left unsaid. Not that I would say them anyway, yeah, you’re right I would say them and in fact probably already have. Am I a bit biased or prejudicial against Cupid and Valentine’s Day, perhaps. After all I have not had the best of luck when it comes to this love stuff. Has that little bastard hit me with any of his arrows, yes, have those arrows stuck, yes. The problem is, and this is where the dirty rotten little prick part comes in, he forgot to stick one of those arrows in the women that he stuck me with. See what I mean, dirty rotten, well you know the rest. I shouldn’t complain I suppose but where would the fun in that be. I certain can and have every reason to complain. Lord knows I have complained, and just the mere fact that I am sitting here today writing about this day is proof that I have and will continue to complain to anyone that will listen, in this case, that will listen.
  I know what you’re saying. You’re saying, but doesn’t Cupid work every day of the year and in fact is not just a tool of St. Valentine? Short answer: yes, does that make him any less or more of a dirty … you know … It’s all a bit much to be honest.
  Let’s be honest, something new for some people to be sure, there are two sides of this. Just to be clear that this other side has no baring on whether or not our little friend is or is not a … what I have been calling him all along. What’s the other side you ask? Come on that’s your question, you know what it is that’s right it’s the fickle bitch in the room. Wrong placed arrows aside there supposedly are some that go to the right receiver. Not that I have that much experience in that sort of thing. I just know that, well some of you have experienced that side of it. Even with my lack of experience in arrows finding their correct mark, or at the very least the one that is meant to be the forever or again at the very least, the one for longer than a couple years. Yeah, that’s where it all goes to hell for me. There is an entire conspiracy theory that lives in my head about VD, and it has had a long, semi healthy life, oh yeah, it’s like that. I don’t think I can say when it started to be honest, I just know that it lives and breaths in my head.
  When I was younger I was totally oblivious to the little hints that you get when someone was hit by that arrow. Well, at least that is when I was the object of the intended arrow and not the one hit directly by the arrow. If that makes sense. The one in question could have hit me over the head with … well anything … but I would not have noticed their ‘crush’ or that they were ‘flirting’ with me or what ever way things like that got across when we were young. To this day it generally takes that sledge hammer to the head to get anything like that through to me. In a way that’s a good thing, right, maybe not. Love goes in one ear and out … I mean in one loading dock … no wait that’s not right. It goes in one window and … no, ugh, it comes and goes, or something like that. Now what this has to do with love being a fickle bitch is fairly obvious isn’t it, or …. is it.
  In my head VD is the game that comes with the territory. It is played out by cupid over the course of the year slinging arrows, sometimes willy nilly, and other times in bulk. We all know that as teenagers we fall in and out of love every other week or so. That would be from the use of bulk arrows shot in the direction of … well teens of course. Not that they aren’t used on adults as well, just not as often. At least that’s what lives in my head anyway. Cupid lines them up and preps them for the coming of VD. Whoever makes it to VD wins or loses. Unfortunately that too lives among the conspiracy theory in my head. If you fail to carry your new love over to and beyond VD, Cupid is back on the job to fill that quota that he has with St. Valentine. Yes, St. Valentine, the third member of our conspiracy. The one whose job it is to see that the suckers, I mean lovers get married. Once married you’re stuck having to deal with VD forever. All this from one, well two arrows supposedly perfectly aimed at a pair of hearts. Having found the perfect pair of suckers, I mean lovers, Cupid wastes no time in pushing them to the point of no return, as it were.
  I heard somewhere that a man has no idea that he wants to get married until a woman tells him that he does. If that’s true then it’s never a mans idea to get married. Stay with me because it might get a little bit bumpy from here out. I said it was a conspiracy theory, I didn’t say it was perfect. If it’s never a mans idea to get married then the woman is the instigator in everything. That’s right I said everything, marriage kids house, yeah everything. Yes the same is true with kids, it’s not his idea to have kids. I know for a fact I may have missed the clues as to when I was told it was time to get married, I’ll give you that. But, I know for a fact that none of my former girlfriends said anything about my wanting kids, in fact it was the exact opposite. What led them to believe that I have no idea. I am getting away from that ugly four letter word and the reason we’re here today. Well, you’re here reading it and I am working to finish it.
  With help from, I am quite sure, our little friend cupid, man is tricked to, cajoled to, pushed to, led to, and down the aisle toward St. Valentine where he eagerly awaits our still yet baffled male. Sure thanks to some more well placed arrows by cupid. Aided of course by laser sighting held by the woman, our bewildered, baffled, and yes somewhat still confused male stands with a big ass grin on his face at the end of that aisle. He’s drunk, but what other way could he be, with all those damned arrows. Well what other way do you think he’d be? There’s something to be said about the saying that goes man is not complete until he is married, then he’s finished. Finished it right. You see it now too don’t you? Oh don’t get me wrong I am not blaming women in this conspiracy theory, oh no. I am of course putting the blame on that dirty rotten little prick … Cupid. If only Mars had worn his hat that day all of this, this VD would not be a thing. Without cupid running all over the place shooting those freaking arrows love would just be a warm cup of hot cocoa or a kitten curled up at your feet. St. Valentine would have just been a nice old man that lived down road handing out candy to the children, wait not like that. February the fourteenth would just be another day on the calendar that we don’t have to fret through worrying what some female wants for VD. We know there are no women out there fretting what to get their man. That’s just not how all this works. Yup, love the fickle bitch that it is only holds the man to do for the woman on VD. Now maybe you see why man doesn’t know he wants to get married until a woman tells him. Thus ends the conspiracy theory that lives in my head, sure it’s still alive but at least it can live in your head now too.
  So to you my friends and family and family of friends I give you more of VD than you could ever have wanted to know. The conspiracy theory that lives in my head about it, and the hell that is this day. Okay, so maybe it’s not true hell, there has to be something good about it. Not that I would catch the clues if there are. Where was I, oh yeah, finishing this up. Accept VD for what it is; a pain in the ass, or an eagerly awaited time to reveal yourself to your crush. Either way make sure that you keep your hat on, November is only a short nine months away, you know what I mean.