Awesome stuff that I would like to have for Valentine's Day. Or any day, really. I'm totally not picky about the day.

Valentine's Day is tomorrow, you guys. And I haven't gotten The Hub ANYTHING yet. Last year I got him a cockroach named Stevie J. Chevrolet, which was by far the most romantic gesture I have ever made. And don't worry, cuz although the cockroach was totally real, it doesn't live with us. It lives in The Bronx Zoo. We just got a photo of him kinda like those photos of kids you get when you send money to Sally Struthers, or whoever the hell they have on those commercials nowadays. I have no clue because I have this thing called a DVR and I don't watch commercials. I am not hip to anything that is advertised on commercials anymore. For all I know they have invented yet another better tampon that lets me not only play volleyball on the beach in a bikini, but also ride a white mechanical bull while wearing no pants at all, without even the slightest chance of an embarrassing accident. And here I am, totally missing out.

As far as Valentine's Day is concerned, I'll probably go the get-him-a-big-ass-pack-of -Twizzlers-and-call-it-a-day, route. This is not a bad gift for him, at all. Dude loves the Twizzlers. And I am not a girl who has high expectations about this day either. I don't really care about it and I usually tell The Hub that all I want is to go buy some clothes or something without hearing about how much money I spent. That, to me, is the perfect Valentine's Day gift. The gift of shut-the-fuck-up. If only they sold that at Amazon.com there would be happy people everywhere this Valentine's Day. And due to the fact that pretty much no matter what a guy gets his woman, she isn't gonna be satisfied, Amazon could just do one of those things they do when you buy something and they suggest something else to go with it. For example: Let's say that you get on Amazon and order your girlfriend a nice bathrobe. Well, when you are checking out, Amazon says "If you also order some Shut-The-Fuck-Up you save $3.00 on your total plus avoid a fight because your girlfriend thought this robe sucked balls."

I think I'm a genius.

Scratch that.

I KNOW I AM.

And although I am not a mushy Valentine's Day kinda person, I will admit that there are a few gifts that I would accept with open arms, and probably even do "the dirty stuff" as a thank you for. I want these things pretty bad. And even though I tell The Hub about my desire for them, he just rolls his eyes and ignores me, and I have yet to figure out if that is due to the fact that he thinks I am joking, or due to the fact that he just thinks that the things on my list are stupid. But this is the man who thought that THIS was stupid:

This is the dead lizard that I wanted at the Flea Market in Austin.
The pain of not getting him still hurts. It hurts bad, you guys.
Dear Dead Lizard, I think about you every single day.
xoxo Patti

So here is a list of a few things that I would totally accept for Valentine's gifts in lieu of all that other stuff that most girls want. And just in case The Hub is reading this, I want to be very very very super crystal shiny glassy clear: I. Am. Not. Joking. And I also want to be clear that this is only a partial list. Partial as in, like, 2% of what I would accept. I want to make my desires known, but I also don't wanna overwhelm the man. And all of us ladies know that when it comes to things like lists of things we want yet our husband's find totally idiotic, it's best to dole the items out little by little. Baby steps, ladies. Baby steps.

Although I have mentioned this item MANY times before on this blog, it has yet to show up at my house, so I am going to mention it again. It is the majestic Cruzin Cooler. And if I would have gotten this baby back when I first asked for it two years ago, I would have been happy with one. But now I want a whole train of them so my friends can ride around the neighborhood with me. See what happens when you make me wait? My mind has time to dream up bigger and better things. Bigger and better and more expensive things.

I assume that most of guys know about my obsession for the unicorn bike. Or as I lovingly refer to it, the Bikeicorn. I have been wanting one of these pretty bad for nearly a year. And although The Hub likes to talk about how handy he is with tools and the building of stuff, he still refuses to build me one of these. This is a really big-ass, pointy, hard, and bitter pill for me to swallow. Why? Because there's nothing that The Hub likes more that building something awesome that lots of people are gonna see, yet he still declines to build me the Bikeicorn, which is the one thing that he could build that would garner him the praise of thousands. Cuz you can bet your sweet-ass I'd be riding this thing EVERYWHERE causing unbelievable envy in EVERYONE. And making people envious kinda rocks hard.

Aside from the whole Bikeicorn thing, my long-time readers also know that if there's one thing squirrels hate, it's me. I don't know what it is. Animals usually love me. As I've said before, I'm like Snow White, but more whorey. Unless -of course- she was messing around with those dwarfs. If she was, then she's totally got me beat. But animals have always been drawn to me. Except for when it comes to squirrels. On more than one occasion, squirrels have tried to kill me, and fortunately my friend Cathy can attest to this. And I am soooo glad. Cuz sometimes my stories seem a bit outlandish, so it's nice when there is someone to verify that yes, this shit does happen to me. So since I like to go walking in the mornings with Cathy, and since the squirrels know my schedule and often try to coordinate murdery opportunities along my walking route, I would like to get this mask so I can freak the shit out of them and make them think I am their king and make proclamation that they leave me the frick alone.

Seriously. I want these bad. Why? Because I want to wear them in public and have people ask me "What are those?" To which I will reply "They're Pickle Fingers! Duh!" And that's all. It's really not that difficult to understand. Let's not over-analyze it. Okay?

This is so amazingly perfect for me that it's like it was created with me in mind. As a matter of fact, I refuse to believe that it wasn't. I imagine myself singing the Jet Song from West Side Story, and then eating a nice Enchirito and Mexican Pizza after I spork some bad guys in the sack. Hygienic? No. Awesome? Yes.

This is it, you guys. This is the kinda stuff that makes me happy. I don't need roses and chocolates and fancy dinners. I just need to ability to fend off a would-be mugger with my pickle-fingered hands wrapped around a switchblade spork, and then celebrate by driving my Cruzin Cooler train filled with Modelo.

I am not a mysterious woman. Not at all.

Sometimes music can touch the soul, and sometimes it can teach you about sluts and morons.

When I was a kid, I was really into music. I had my own tape recorder, and when I wasn't busy recording my dad snoring, or my parent's private conversations, or episodes of Laverne & Shirley that I wanted to memorize, or my own soap opera's that I wrote, directed, and starred in and which revolved around the character's flatulence problems (The Young and the Farty was a popular one), I was usually using it to listen to my tunes. I even had entire dance routines to go with most of my jams. When I needed more people for said dance routines, I would invite a few of the neighbor girls over, and force them to learn my choreography. There was one girl who would always try to outshine me, so I would stick her in the way back, and sometimes she would get put in charge of lighting or the wind machine, AKA the flashlight and the box fan.

During my performances,  I was usually in costume, hairbrush in hand, singing along. I even made wigs out of yarn when a fancier hairstyle was in order, or the dance routine required a bit more sassy hair tossing than my own thin locks could handle.  

I was about 99.9% positive that I would someday be discovered. Basically it would go down like this:  I would start out on Broadway in "Annie." Then as I matured and my body blossomed into a beautiful garden of butt and boobies, I would move on to something along the lines of a starring role in TV's "Fame", or a permanent role on "The Facts of Life" on which I would play the part-time school girl/full-time rock and roller best friend of Jo's.

In other words, I was really really into my music. And I still am. And like most people when they get older, I have a soft spot for the music that I listened to as a child. But now when I listen to some of it, I hear things in it that I missed as a kid.

So today I thought I would share a few of these songs with you. Why? Because it's Super Bowl Sunday and I don't watch football. So I'm pretty bored.

#1- Heart: All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You

When I googled this song for the release date, I was actually pretty shocked. It came out in 1990. And the realization of that made me feel like a total loser. Because truth be told, I kinda liked this song for awhile. I mean, only when I was on my period or was having boy trouble. The rest of the time I was into bands like The Cure and The Smiths and Led Zeppelin. But if my estrogen levels were high and this song came on the radio, I ain't gonna lie you guys... I sang along. But thanks to the fact that I was 18 when this came out, it didn't take me more than a few weeks to really listen to the stupid words that I was singing. And when I did I felt like an asshole. Cuz this song? This song was about woman who picked up a boy who was out walking during a rainstorm. And he was probably walking cuz he was too young to drive, you guys. So does she take him home? No. She takes him to a hotel. What hotel? One that she "knew well." Why did she know it well? Probably cuz she was a whore who picked up young boys and took them to hotels. And what happened there? Well, she pretty much screwed his brains out. Then what? Well, she snuck out while he was sleeping and she left him some dumb-ass note that said "I am the flower, you are the seed, we walked in the garden, we planted a tree." And that is, like, the dumbest note ever. Cuz if she is a stupid flower, and he is a freakin' seed, how the hell did either of them walk through a goddamn garden? Flowers and seeds don't have legs. And even if they did, a flower and a seed don't make a freakin' tree. Obviously this songwriter didn't take Botany in college like I did. And ya know what else bugs me? Not only did she pick  up this "lonely boy in the rain" and take him to a hotel and underage rape him, but she also left him there to find his own way home. Bitch coulda at least left cab fare. And unfortunately it gets worse for him, because later he runs into her and finds out she had his friggin' baby! The only good part about this song is that there wasn't a verse about asking for child support.

#2- Dolly Parton: Jolene

So this was a song that I loved as a kid. It came out in 1974 when I was only 3-years-old, but it was always playing on the radio even when I was a few years older. It's a pretty short song and was easy to memorize, so it became a part of my hairbrush singing repertoire. Sometimes I would even put stuffed animals in my shirt to give myself a Dolly kinda rack. It actually wasn't until The White Stripes sang it in 2004 when I kinda re-discovered this song and really began to listen to the lyrics. Basically what this song is saying is that Dolly Parton is a woman with very low self-esteem whose man is messing around on her with some red-headed bitch named Jolene. So what does Dolly do? Key her car? Kick her ass? Spork her man in the taint? No, no, and no. What she does do is she sings about how pretty and perfect Jolene is and begs her not to take her man away from her, when what she really needs to do is throw his shit on the lawn and take him for all he's worth. Really. No wonder he's messing around with Jolene. She's pathetic. And that slutty Joleen's probably giving him the butt sex.

#3-Sylvia: Nobody

This song came out in 1982. I love it big time. I had the 45 and I played it and wore a yarn wig and did the whole American Bandstand performance thing. This song got lots of play time in my house. And I really don't think I had heard it since 1982, until a couple of weeks ago when it came on the radio in my car. I was super excited and I was flash-backing all over the place. And I was totally surprised to find that I remembered all of the lyrics. But as I sang along I realized that I never knew what the hell I was singing about back when I was 10-years-old. Yes. It's yet another song about a stupid bitch. Basically this girl is having dinner with her man when this other chick walks past their table, and she notices that he looks at her like he knows her. So she asks him about it and he says it's nobody. Then all this other shit happens like he says he's working late with nobody. And then he's all day-dreamy and stuff and she asks him who he's thinking about and he says nobody. So then the nobody woman calls the freakin' house and hangs up when the wife asks what her name is. Obviously they coulda used some caller ID, and the stupid nobody woman could've at least cooked up a story before she called, just in case the wife answered. I would think that would be one of the top ten tips for being the other woman: Be prepared to lie your ass off.  And after all this stuff happens, what does the wife do? She just tells her husband that she can love him better than that sleazy-ass nobody woman can. Really? Dude. Get some self-respect. You and Dolly need to go to some kind of support group or something. Or maybe take some testosterone and grow some balls.

#4-Meatloaf: Paradise By The Dashboard Light

This came out in 1977. We had the 8-track. I was 6-years-old and I sang the shit out of it. It was about 17-year-old kids in a car making out and he's trying to get her to do it with him and she's fighting it and he keeps on pushing and she asks him if he's gonna love her forever and he's mega-horny so he says yes so they do it and then he's stuck with her forever. So I guess she got knocked up or something. Did I mention that when I sang the shit outta this I was 6-years-old?

My parents really dropped the ball on this one.