.. Fuck You!
Fuck You, you pathetic pretentious lover. Everyone knows you hoodwinked that ass-faced, gourd-shaped whore from next door so that you could get a couple’s discount to the ‘great Tantra Valentine’s bash’. So wipe that stupid grin off your face before I tell your ‘date’ about your gonorrhea issues from last month.
Fuck You, you retarded micro-mini clad bimbette. Just because you have a bunch of desperados jerking off to the sight of your bare fat legs every night, it doesn’t mean you are hot. I am not betting against you getting drilled into on the 14th, but just remember that there are tons of others getting paid for it.
Fuck You, you rich, fat, brainwashed lover-boy. Have you checked your dad’s bank balance lately? I bet you bought your ‘girl’ a diamond-studded necklace for the occasion and she promised you her undying ‘love’ in return. Now you better prepare to masturbate to her pictures on Valentine’s, because there some things and huge dicks that money can’t buy.
Fuck You, Yash Chopra and Suraj Bajratya. It is your brand of mind-fucking cinema that has proliferated a generation of confused idiots. It is your fault that populations of perfectly normal teenagers now experience an epiphany about divine love every time they pass an Archies Gallery.
Fuck You, Mark Zuckerberg. It is your money-minting, life-fucking invention that shoves an ejaculation of unbearably mush-filled messages down our throats on this very day every year. It’s your website that drives a thousand loners to suicide every February.
Fuck You, all you bunch of bullshit spewing astrologers with medieval hindi vocab, who promise sex on 14th if we wear your ring. Seriously? Is that why you have more rings than fingers on your body?? And you still haven’t got any???
Fuck You, you manufacturer of rose-imprinted-teddy-bear-hugging-a-heart cards. It’s because of you, that there is a 90% increase in blindness levels which is a direct effect of every consumer product turning into red on 14th.
Fuck You, owners of coffee shops for making coffee rates look like I asked for a year’s supply of ultra-thin condoms and a French prostitute. And also for decorating every bloody corner with heart-shaped balloons which look like they have been reused since 1969. And also for giving (un)romantic names to coffee/ food items. I do not want a Cafe de Pyaar, bhenchod. Just pass me an espresso.
Fuck You, you restaurant owners for destroying the notion of a romantic candle-light dinner, again by jacking up prices so high that I won’t have the friggin dough to buy candles after 14th, let alone dinner. And this for something that can be arranged in the simplest, cost-effective manner.
Fuck You, to all diamond chain owners for spreading your shameless discriminatory propaganda about diamonds = make your woman feel special. Because they don’t make men feel special about their wallets. They make us feel poor. Very poor if you’re a post-recession boyfriend.
Fuck You, all those who think V-day is the day to observe love,affection and crap. If you can’t find or observe love for whoever in the entire year, if you need one working day to suddenly celebrate love and indulge in consumerist pornography (because that’s what it’s all about apparently); then you have failed to see that love is in the celebration of those little moments of togetherness that you can, and do, experience for 365 days.
We at TanTheta pity those who need specific days to feel “isspeshul” and love.
You fuckers don’t need a day. You need a Life.
Pic Courtesy: FunnyChix.com