This is not so much a post as it is a public service announcement, now that the Super Bowl is past and all we have to look forward to is the stereotypical February “buy her diamonds or lose her forever” emotion blackmail ads.
For the record, I do not want diamonds.
I want a Velociraptor.
I want a Velociraptor that I shall name Mr Whiffles, and occasionally let out to eat one of the neighbors’ kids when those little $@&! are outside shrieking like someone set their hair on fire too close to my front window.
…Nothing says romance like a ravenous Velociraptor.