Funny Valentines

It’s that time of year, when men start stressing and women set themselves up for disappointment.

Valentine's Day.

No day carries more pressure to perform. Too often, though, a day dedicated to matters of the heart ends up with only heartbreak.

I’m being bombarded with suggested Valentine's Day gift ideas to blog about, like Send a Pantygram, a barely-there piece of lingerie meant to be sent by her to him as a sexy suggestion (presumably it could backfire if sent the other way around).


One of the more unusual pitches came in the regular mail this week—three cans of “Turn On—a love drink”—all natural! The list of ingredients includes Maca, “a legendary sex-enhancing root passed down from the Inca,” (not actually in the drink yet but coming soon) and Schizandra, “a small red fruit from a large bush that is native to China.”

I haven’t quite worked up the nerve to pop the top and take a sip.

I usually get flowers and chocolates on Valentine's Day, and, believe me, I’m thrilled! One year I didn’t get anything, and I still occasionally bring that up.

That was in 1988.

Women have long memories about Valentine's Day.

“Flowers are definitely sweet and so are chocolates, the standard gifts on Valentine’s Day,” writes Rebecca Eckler for in Toronto. “Now, I hate to be so demanding, but I think that flowers and chocolates may show a man cares, but there’s not much effort or creativity involved.”

Eckler and her friends have pretty high demands for “V-day”. If a man’s giving lingerie, it has to be of good quality, not slutty. Buying your sweetheart a couple’s massage “doesn’t do anything for me,” says one friend. Within her circle, the best Valentine's gifts from years past included “a treasure hunt, starting at a video store and ending up at a fancy restaurant,” and “a book of all their dating memories including movie and concert stubs and photos.”

Sorry, I have to disagree.

Such thoughtful, time-consuming presents are gifts that bff’s give each other. These are not gifts from a man. A real man, the kind too busy fixing everything and killing spiders to think concocting a “treasure hunt”.

I’ll take the chocolates this year—heck, I’ll take anything—and be happy. If my husband handed me a keepsake album he’d spent days putting together, I wouldn’t swoon. I’d get suspicious.

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