Oops, belated congratulations on your rich social lives.

For some reason, the W.O.R.M. forgot that today is the holiday for procreators. As well as those practicing “dress rehearsals” for procreation.

…okay, undress rehearsals.

Anyway, as this holiday requires a social life, naturally it snuck up on me. So to all you Valentiners let me say, from the bottom of my heart…

…go **** yourselves.

UPDATE–Almost forgot the public service announcement. This holiday’s initials are, appropriately, “V.D.” So always remember: two’s company, three’s a disease vector.

Now run along and be romantic.

About these ads

About wormme

I've accepted that all of you are socially superior to me. But no pretending that any of you are rational.
This entry was posted in Public Service Announcement. Bookmark the permalink.

11 Responses to Oops, belated congratulations on your rich social lives.

  1. D.J. says:

    I most certainly am not going to —- myself.

    Rather, my wife.

    • wormme says:

      That was the intended implication. I really wanted you guys to have nice Valentine’s Days, and also wanted to be funny about it.

      EPIC FAIL.

      I just issued an apology to Mazzuchelli. And here’s yours: I’m sorry for the offense.

      • D.J. says:

        Apology accepted, and not even in the Darth Vader sense of the term!

        Actually, the joke did carry through, and I was trying to do the semi-humorous person playing the line given straight (completely missing the point), but in a tongue-in-cheek manner. I’m sorry that that didn’t carry through. But I understood that you were wishing us well in your deadpan snarker way.

        ….and perhaps I need to stop going to TV Tropes so much.

      • D.J. says:

        Also, I wish we still had ‘thou’ as the second person singular in everyday English. That might have helped with clearing things up, though since thou wast addressing thy readership collectively, I’m not entirely sure.

      • wormme says:

        I was almost completely certain you’d gotten the joke, but after offending Mazzuchelli I’m running scared.

  2. Mazzuchelli says:

    It’s guys like you that cause wonderful women to end up spinsters. Shame on you.

    • wormme says:

      I abjectly apologize for the offense.

      I assumed the joke would carry through. Idiot me. The **** yourselves was meant for pairs, not individuals. Meaning I wished you a very, very happy Valentine’s Day. With your valentine.

      It’s just, I’m never going to have one. So I also vented. While trying to be funny. Which I wasn’t.

      Will you accept my apology?

  3. I thought you were funny. It’s easy for people to read things the wrong way, vice a live comedic performance.

    Valentine’s Day is stupid. At least for grownups. I had fun with the kids and their little school valentines, and they get to enjoy a school party and then come home clutching self-decorated paper bags of goofy cardlets and candy.

    Kind of a twist on Halloween, for them.

    Just a stupid reminder that MY husband is on the boat, for me.

    Cheers!

  4. Mazzuchelli says:

    No. Let me apologize for my lack of nuance. Besides, if I’d been really offended, it’s hardly likely I’d go on to comment at several other of your posts. I just think all single guys should spend at least a third of their spare time asking women out. That.is.your.role.

    • wormme says:

      A role I’ve abdicated. It’s a version of Groucho Marx’s “I’d never join any club that would have someone like me as a member.” In comparison to the gal I fell for, any woman I could now hope to attract would not measure up.

      My only hope would be importing one.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s