bill-swift - February 15, 2013
Let's be real. Valentine's Day is the single worst day of the year for the male of our species, not including dates scheduled for prostate exams or colonoscopies I suppose, but a very close second to those invasive procedures. We need not get into the entire history of the made-up holiday, or how modern times have seen the celebration of romance turn into some type of emotional obstacle course for men in pleasing their mates, but suffice it to say, unless you are most definitely getting laid tonight, just close your eyes and wait for it to be over (which isn't bad advice as well if you are getting laid, depending on your choice of partners).
There's really only one way to save my own Valentine's Day today, and that is if uber-sextastic Miranda Kerrwill agree to be my Valentine's.
Yes, Miranda, I know that you're married, and a mom, and I'm not asking you to forsake any of that, really, at least not for more than thirty minutes or so comprising one minute of dedicated foreplay, followed by twenty-nine minutes of me trying to run the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody through my brain so I don't end our passionate coupling prematurely. It could be so wonderful, Miranda. Dirty, naughty, and wrong, but ever so wonderful.
Check out the tribute gallery to Miranda Kerr lingerie hotness and see the well from whence my personal lust doth spring.