Romance is dead

Ah Valentines day. That one day a year where you show that special someone that you love them: chocolate (stale, bought from the petrol station), wine (purchased with chocolates,  finest {cheapest} chardonnay), heart shaped helium balloons (that will soon deflate and lie helplessly dead on your bedroom floor, what a lovely gesture to sum up your relationship), huge tacky cards (an essay of words written by a total stranger). Yes what a lovely day. Puke. We say you don't need an excuse to fuck or say those three words. So bite us cupid. 


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