I don’t have the romance gene. Mostly, I think romance is sappy and stoopid, and often gets in the way of real love. Real love is the person who comes and gets you after you’ve thrown up at work.
Romance is when someone gives you a dozen roses because it’s easy to make an online order. I guess I should also mention that the last time I got roses was in college (The Dark Ages). The roses triggered a huge asthma attack. I spent the night in the emergency room sucking on an inhaler. I’m telling you, VD is dangerous.
Glad I won’t be one of the women who are getting that cruddy “Journeys” necklace that was also advertised endlessly at Christmas.
I spent a considerable portion of my 20’s and 30's with otherwise sane girlfriends who would get maudlin on VD because they hadn’t found their “soul mate.” I think women watch too many Sleeping Beauty/Cinderella type movies.
Mr. Wonderful is wonderful, but he spends a considerable portion of life wandering around without a clue (this medical condition is known as Male Cranium-Rectum Disease). I just suck it up and laugh.
VD = Poohey. Unrealistic romantic fantasy leads to real life disaster, IMHO. Gimmie a man who knows to change the oil in the car.
Still, in the last few years VD has finally turned into something wonderful. On Feb 11, 2006 (close enough!) Dick Chaney got liquored up at lunchtime and shot his lawyer buddy.
Not fatal, but funny forever. Thanks Dick! You’ve really earned your name…