I can assure you that if you haven’t bought your significant other* a Valentines Day gift, you’re practically SOL. Don’t be one of those people who picks up a shop-warn teddy bear and a heart-shaped container of bath salts at the drugstore the morning of. So, I highly recommend picking up a copy of Love Is a Four-Letter Word: True Stories of Breakups, Bad Relationships, and Broken Hearts (or buy it here, and have it overnighted or something). It will make you laugh, cringe, hate me because I don’t like Henry Rollins, and pity everyone involved because we don’t have traditional family values. Read some reviews here. Read an excerpt here. Catch the spirit, catch the spit.
*I was thisclose to typing “sweetie,” just because the term irks me so much. I see it cropping up everywhere on the web, and it conjures up images of furries and Ren Faires. You can’t call an adult a “sweetie.” (Unless that adult is a bunny.)
Stroke me.
