CASPERWAIT$
Drama Moobs Your Mom
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- Aug 3, 2010
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I figure I have given out 15 Valentines Day gifts in my lifetime. I also figure every one of them sucked. Tonight I made a list of 6 presents I gave on Valentines Day. This may explain why I am single.
A Ladies Razor And Shower Kit- Yeah, this one was bad. The girl wasn't hairy. I really thought a woman would like something besides a Bic to shave their legs and stuff. It was pink, it was girly, it had nice smelling shaving gunk. For the rest of the day, she accused me of staring at her 5oclock shadow under her lip. I told her she couldn't have a 5 oclock shadow because it was only 2:15 pm.
A Subscription To Playgirl- This one didn't get me into any trouble until 3 months later. The mailman was convinced my girlfriend was hard up. Between the issue of Playgirl and her regular issues of Cosmo and People, he thought she was prime for the dating. When she turned him down for a date, her mail began to come late. She didn't get her IRS tax forms till March that year.
A Portrait Of Her Painted In the Nude- This was shortly after Titanic came out. The problem wasn't the idea, it was the execution. I needed to do it as a surprise, so one morning while she was in the shower, I took a picture of her. I found this great artist on the Atlantic City Boardwalk who agreed to do the portrait for free as long as he could keep the shower picture. I didn't see the harm in that. Anyway, he does the portrait, and i bring it home all wrapped. She opens it up, and Mr. Boardwalk Artist painted all her body parts exaggerated size. Her head looked like a Macy's Day Thanksgiving balloon and her butt was twice the size of Kim Kardashian's. The crazy thing is she was upset he didn't make her boobs bigger. After a long crying session and a promise to get her implants, the night ended smoothly.
Belgian Chocolate- Okay, it wasn't really Belgian chocolate. Blame my inability to order something off the internet drunk on this one. I thought it said Belgian Chocolate. It actually said Bulgarian chocolate. Bulgaria may be a great place to visit, but their chocolate is none to pleasant. The chocolate had centers filled with candy corn, gumdrops, and a gelatin version of tripe. My girlfriend got so sick, They had to pump her stomach. She wouldn't speak to me for a week. Actually she couldn't speak to me for a week because her stomach acid burned her vocal chords temporarily. What a nice quiet week that was.
Scavenger Hunt- I set up clues all around New York City and had my girlfriend search for a ring as the final prize. Two problems with this was I made a homeless guy on the corner of 17th Street and 3rd Avenue the ring holder (that's where we met) and all my clues made no sense. Suffice to say, after 8 hours of going through the streets of the Bronx, Harlem, and a short stop in the Port Authority holding cell, she was none to happy. Eventually she reached the object point, and Mr. Homeless man had pawned the ring for crack and a Quiznos sandwich (which by the way was more expensive than the crack). When she got to him, he handed her $13 and a pawn shop ticket. She broke up with me the next day....in clue form of course.
A Romantic Poem- Guys, don't write your girlfriends or wives poetry. Leave it to the professionals. I say this because what I thought was a romantic gesture ended up with me explaining to a judge why I wasn't wearing any pants.
My poem basically explained how I would give up everything I have to be with her forever and how her naked beauty was all I needed to survive. My ex was a donater. Not a hoarder, but a donater. She would give everything to the Salvation Army if she had the chance. the cool thing about that was she would give her clothes off her back. That made foreplay VERY easy. Anyway, she decided to take my poem literally. As I lay sleeping Valentines Day morning, she proceeded to take ALL my clothes to the Salvation Army. After waking up and seeing all i had left was the Mickey Mouse boxers, black socks, and stained T-shirt I had on, I flipped. I needed pants! not to go to work in or anything, just pants so I wouldn't get so chilly on the couch playing Nintendo.
I had her drive me to the Salvation Army where I proceeded to go in and try to buy my clothes back at a reasonable price. Well when I realized my wallet was in one of my pairs of pants, I REALLY freaked. I began to tear through the store looking for my pants. the security Paul Blart wannabe didn't like me demeanor and promptly called the cops who hauled me in on indecent exposure. My girlfriend, so embarrassed, left with some hippie. Suffice to say, I stopped writing poetry after that.
There you have it. 6 failed presents and 6 failed relationships. I am hoping I can make it 7 next year!!
A Ladies Razor And Shower Kit- Yeah, this one was bad. The girl wasn't hairy. I really thought a woman would like something besides a Bic to shave their legs and stuff. It was pink, it was girly, it had nice smelling shaving gunk. For the rest of the day, she accused me of staring at her 5oclock shadow under her lip. I told her she couldn't have a 5 oclock shadow because it was only 2:15 pm.
A Subscription To Playgirl- This one didn't get me into any trouble until 3 months later. The mailman was convinced my girlfriend was hard up. Between the issue of Playgirl and her regular issues of Cosmo and People, he thought she was prime for the dating. When she turned him down for a date, her mail began to come late. She didn't get her IRS tax forms till March that year.
A Portrait Of Her Painted In the Nude- This was shortly after Titanic came out. The problem wasn't the idea, it was the execution. I needed to do it as a surprise, so one morning while she was in the shower, I took a picture of her. I found this great artist on the Atlantic City Boardwalk who agreed to do the portrait for free as long as he could keep the shower picture. I didn't see the harm in that. Anyway, he does the portrait, and i bring it home all wrapped. She opens it up, and Mr. Boardwalk Artist painted all her body parts exaggerated size. Her head looked like a Macy's Day Thanksgiving balloon and her butt was twice the size of Kim Kardashian's. The crazy thing is she was upset he didn't make her boobs bigger. After a long crying session and a promise to get her implants, the night ended smoothly.
Belgian Chocolate- Okay, it wasn't really Belgian chocolate. Blame my inability to order something off the internet drunk on this one. I thought it said Belgian Chocolate. It actually said Bulgarian chocolate. Bulgaria may be a great place to visit, but their chocolate is none to pleasant. The chocolate had centers filled with candy corn, gumdrops, and a gelatin version of tripe. My girlfriend got so sick, They had to pump her stomach. She wouldn't speak to me for a week. Actually she couldn't speak to me for a week because her stomach acid burned her vocal chords temporarily. What a nice quiet week that was.
Scavenger Hunt- I set up clues all around New York City and had my girlfriend search for a ring as the final prize. Two problems with this was I made a homeless guy on the corner of 17th Street and 3rd Avenue the ring holder (that's where we met) and all my clues made no sense. Suffice to say, after 8 hours of going through the streets of the Bronx, Harlem, and a short stop in the Port Authority holding cell, she was none to happy. Eventually she reached the object point, and Mr. Homeless man had pawned the ring for crack and a Quiznos sandwich (which by the way was more expensive than the crack). When she got to him, he handed her $13 and a pawn shop ticket. She broke up with me the next day....in clue form of course.
A Romantic Poem- Guys, don't write your girlfriends or wives poetry. Leave it to the professionals. I say this because what I thought was a romantic gesture ended up with me explaining to a judge why I wasn't wearing any pants.
My poem basically explained how I would give up everything I have to be with her forever and how her naked beauty was all I needed to survive. My ex was a donater. Not a hoarder, but a donater. She would give everything to the Salvation Army if she had the chance. the cool thing about that was she would give her clothes off her back. That made foreplay VERY easy. Anyway, she decided to take my poem literally. As I lay sleeping Valentines Day morning, she proceeded to take ALL my clothes to the Salvation Army. After waking up and seeing all i had left was the Mickey Mouse boxers, black socks, and stained T-shirt I had on, I flipped. I needed pants! not to go to work in or anything, just pants so I wouldn't get so chilly on the couch playing Nintendo.
I had her drive me to the Salvation Army where I proceeded to go in and try to buy my clothes back at a reasonable price. Well when I realized my wallet was in one of my pairs of pants, I REALLY freaked. I began to tear through the store looking for my pants. the security Paul Blart wannabe didn't like me demeanor and promptly called the cops who hauled me in on indecent exposure. My girlfriend, so embarrassed, left with some hippie. Suffice to say, I stopped writing poetry after that.
There you have it. 6 failed presents and 6 failed relationships. I am hoping I can make it 7 next year!!
