Valentine's Day and Taylor Swift

Surprising fact: it is impossible to get sick of Taylor Swift music. Especially while eating slightly stale peanuts at Logan's Roadhouse and watching your brother make his various Exorcist-inspired faces. I confess, I'm really missing the spring. The flowers, the sunshine, the pants-less homosexual bunny with the clown-like fake cheerfulness who hands out rotten eggs to little children... But wait, we still have one more winter holiday to endure before that fateful time. What was it again? Something about hearts, a fat kid with a bow and arrow, and homemade cards from that artsy teacher who gives back massages? Ah, yes, Valentine's Day. A slap in the face for the single and hopeless and a pressure for couples to pretend they are still as in love as the day they first saw each other in bathing suits. For my fellow Valentine's nonbelievers, I offer an alternative: instead of flowers, make bouquets of poison ivy. Disguise and distribute to your cheating exes and bitchy frenemies, making sure they hold it to their face often to smell. Enjoy ;)