Word of the day is my vade mecum to world domination.

Love is fascism. Love is true devotion. Love is peeling the gum off the bottom of your wife’s shoe. Love is snuggling with your husband after he ate the pinto bean burrito Grande. Love is tears. Love is more than a smile; it’s a smile so big it rips right through your whole body like white lightning. Love is Halo every night. Love is stable and flighty.

 

Passion comes from reverence, respect, heat, sex, fanaticism, chocolate, sugar…and from the heart.

 

Joy she’s more than the Asian lady at the farmer’s market selling broccoli from her community garden, it’s more than candy with coconut and almond, he’s more than Free Radikal on clan night…

 

It’s Valentine’s Day, a day where I feel full of love, that’s every day really. I think of all the clichés on V-Day: the basket of cow hearts, a pint of frosted pig’s blood, cherries, chocolate covered strawberries, the head of your enemy on a plate, a giant red laser than burns “I love you” into the Mojave Desert. Nothing says “I love you” more than invading an alien world and subjugating the populace of low tech critters in the name of a loved one. I would say, “Bow down before my wife, she works hard and cooks great meatloaf!” I would fly the flag of meatloaf above their heads for a thousand years and then at the end of the era I would say ‘Thanks’ and leave. All I would leave behind is a recipe for meatloaf; it would be a ludic ending.

 

I want to get a nail gun and nail a valentine into my heart. I want to sneak into my wife’s workplace and climb through the walls and video record her while she works. I will launch miniature red heart shaped Nerf balls with loving messages on them such as I will always love you; I own your soul and meet me in the cornfield for some fun.

 

I think we need some erotic Jell-O molds dusted with grape pop rocks.