I’ve made my opinion of this goddess forsaken holiday abundantly clear here, here, and here, and this year’s no different.
I couldn’t be happier about my freedom to fuck whoever I want,
but as usual, my news feed is filled with tales of woe by single folks, so here’s a tale to boost your spirits, (or at least boost your self esteem):
The year was 2010, unbeknownst to me, my husband had been cheating with a 19 year old waffle house waitress (because my life is one big Jeff Foxworthy joke) and thus began a weightlifting regime in order to impress his young mistress.
Valentine’s day fell on a Sunday that year, and though I was usually off on Sundays, I had to be at work at 9:30 am to paint the hooves of a coven of mini-van driving, skort wearing, soccer mom, bitchbiscuits who assumed the tips were included in the spa packages.
Y’all know the type; the ones with stick figure family and soccer ball decals on their Chrysler town & country, complain tattoo’d folks ruin the “high end spa experience” (Bitch, we were in a strip mall next to a rent-a-center!), give all wives of LEOs and Military a bad rap by bragging about their husbands’ status (for fuck’s sake, just say you’re unemployed.), and have standing weekly mani-pedi appointments so they can bemoan how little “me-time” they have, though they obviously have at least six free hours a month and two free hours a day to maintain this haircut:
Photo stolen from weknowmemes.com
Anywho, my alarm was set at the very last fucking minute because I’ll be goddamned if I was gonna make an effort to look nice for these cuntcakes.
Fifteen minutes before my alarm was set to go off, my husband woke me up by nudging me and instructing me to keep my eyes closed. I was annoyed, but I knew he had a 5 am gym session, and figured since it was valentine’s day, he’d surprised me with a pumpkin spice soy latte (I’m half white, SHUT UP!), so humoring him, I sat up in bed.
“Now open” he said.
I opened my eyes to find nary a latte, but my husband with his sweatpants down around his ankles.
“What the ever lovin fuckity fuck?!” I asked.
He responded “Check out my quads.”
Allow me to reiterate; my gift from my husband was the opportunity to feast my eyes upon the same hairy hamburger meat loins I saw every fucking day.
“It can’t possible get any worse!” you say? You haven’t been following this blog long.
He then turned around, dropped his draws, and said “now check out my glutes!”.
Don’t get me wrong, I had always instructed him not to buy me valentine’s day gifts, and I wasn’t expecting one, but I was also expecting to sleep for another fifteen fucking minutes!
FYI; future potential suitors, do NOT wake me up unless either I’m in immanent danger, or you’re presenting me with a vegan latte.
My sister-in-law is addicted to the frozen lattes sold at 7/11 she dubbed “crack coffee”, but has since developed lactose intolerance and was going through withdrawals until I introduced her to homemade crack coffee.
This recipe is adapted from The BrokeAss Gourmet and can be enjoyed hot or cold.
4 oz strong brewed coffee (I use 4 T per 6oz water and freeze the leftovers for cold lattes)
1 cup vegan milk, heated in microwave until boiling (I always buy unsweetened. My favorites in order; cashew, almond, coconut, soy)
1 T sweetener of choice (optional) (I like dates, but table sugar, splenda, agave nectar, or flavored syrup work well)
Option add ins:
1 T coconut oil (makes it “milkier” and great for your skin)
1 T chia or flax seeds (great way to add protein, but also add sliminess )
1 t extract (vanilla, almond, maple, mint; whatever you like)
Add all ingredients to blender and blend the fuck out of it for three minutes.
4 frozen coffee cubes
1 cup vegan milk
1 T sweetener
1/2 banana (optional)
1-2 T peanut butter
Same optional add ins as hot latte
Blend until smooth.
Oh, and I haven’t forgotten about you hopeless romantics out there, here’s a selection of realistic valentines for the ones you tolerate, from Niktorious NIK:
And for my fellow lesbians: