Well, T. Rhett sure started the week off with a bang. When I walked into the office this morning, I saw this memo posted on the bulletin board:
St. Valentine and his day must die! I move for him to be beaten, stoned, and decapitated, and for his day to be forever associated with pain, suffering, and death!
As Director of Public Relations, I should probably point out that T. Rhett is being a bit dramatic here. It’s not St. Valentine’s fault that he shares a name with America’s worst holiday. Everyone loves the guy – he roasts and brews our coffee, keeps the vodka cooler full, and roams the office with encouraging words and delicious European bonbons. Plus, he’s like the only person here who hasn’t been mauled by a sloth or KO’d by a chicken cannonball at some point. I don’t think you could kill him if you tried.
So, it’s with mixed feelings that I announce SlapSad’s brand-new Valentine’s Day collection, which is called Kill St. Valentine. A lot of drunken labor went into this one, as I’m sure you can tell by the fact that there are no original concepts involved. Featuring traditional pinks, reds, whites, and blues, this collection is certain to remind you of your inexplicably painful existence, and of that broken heart inside that insists on keeping you alive, ha ha!
Man, I really need to stop getting carried away with all this pessimism.* The robowriter I’ve hired to help out until my hand heals up seems to be negatively affecting my mood. Well, hope you guys all had a pointless Monday!
* Editor’s note: You should’ve seen it before I toned up all the unhappy crap.