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Romantic Surprises for Valentine's Day
by: Max Burbank

Boy, February 14'th sure does sneak up on you, huh? I mean, February is the shortest month of all to begin with which is why they let the coloreds have it for their history month, but Valentine's Day is just two weeks in! Hell, I'm still hung over from New Year's eve!

If you're anything like me, you think Valentine's Day is one of the most important days of the year, and yet somehow you never plan in advance and spend the days leading up to it in a Motel Six off the highway in Rhode Island making Methamphetamines in the bathtub. Then it's rush, rush, rush to the only place open at three in the morning on the fourteenth and get whatever the hell you can. The wife's a sport, but even she can't pretend a gallon of windshield wiper fluid, some 10-40 weight and a little round tin of Chaw deserve sex. Not when it's the third year in a row.

One thing I've learned in twelve years of marriage to at least five different women; Chicks may dig an expensive rock but what really impresses them is planning. Now, if you're reading this article at I-Mockery right now, you can't plan for the future any better than a goldfish, and that's after it starts floating upside down. Lucky for you bastards you got me. I've assembled some of my finest plans. Feel free to use 'em. But if my name comes up at the police inquest, don't get seated in a restaurant with your back to the door for the rest of your life. Know what I mean?

Get home an hour or so before she does. If you've got kids, send them to your folks, have a local teenage babysitter take them to the movies, lock 'em in the basement, whatever. Strip all the petals off a bunch of roses. Leave a big pile of petals right in front of the door, where she can't miss 'em. Put some Barry White on the stereo, turn the lights way down low. Make a trail of petals leading up the stairs and toward your bedroom. Leave the door slightly ajar and light about sixty candles all over the room. Then strip naked, take the coldest shower you can stand, put light blue make-up on your body and lie absolutely still face up with your eyes open on the floor next to the bed. My wife loved this gift until it turned out I was alive.

Tell your sweetie not to make any plans, but to be dressed to the nines and ready to go at six PM. Take her to the car, and when she's seated, blindfold her. Any time he asks a question, just say "Shh, darling, it's a surprise.' Put some Barry White on the CD player, and drive for a really, really long time, at least four hours. Refuse to answer questions or even talk.

If she eventually gets mad and takes the blindfold off. Immediately pull over and cry until she puts it back on. HINT: This can take a while. Be persistent. Finally pull in at your destination, and tell her to count to a hundred and then take off her blindfold. When she does she will discover she is in the parking lot of the Chucky Cheese nearest your house. You are nowhere to be found and you've got the keys and her purse. This one is guaranteed to make her think about how much she needs you.

Take her some place fairly public. The center of a mall, or a busy theater lobby will work just fine. Shout at the top of your lungs 'I LOVE THIS WOMAN!! I… LOVE… THIS… WOMAN!!!'

She'll be embarrassed, but no doubt she'll also be thinking of that commercial and what comes next. So just imagine how surprised she'll be (and remember, the ladies love surprises) when you scream 'WHAT?!… YOU… WHAT? OH, GOD, OH MY GOD, MY BEST FRIEND?! BUT BILLY IS ONLY TWELVE! AND HE HAS RICKETS! RICKETS!! WHAT KIND OF MONSTER ARE YOU?!?'

Pretty much what it sounds like.

Go to her work dressed as a Cop and loudly demand to see her about unpaid parking tickets. When she comes out of her office, slam a boombox down on the table and crank up the Barry White. Start a strip tease. When she starts too feel uncomfortable or yell at you say 'Look, lady, it ain't my fault you're so ashamed that you're single and you hired your own strip-o-gram.'

A lot like the classic reach in my pocket, except this time your pocket is full of pudding.


Take her to an expensive restaurant. Make a big show of giving her flowers and a gift. Then reach across the table, take both her hands and sing 'Having my baby.' Sing it all the way through. She'll turn red, tell you to stop, but keep going. I guarantee you; there will be a round of applause from the other diners for your cute, romantic stunt. Then sing it again. Then sing it again. Keep singing 'Having my baby' until it becomes clear you've gone completely insane and someone calls an ambulance.

Well, they're fresh and they sure as hell beat windshield wiper fluid.

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