Valentine’s Day is Fucking Stupid.

I don’t understand the point of Valentine’s Day. 

Wait, each 14th of February, I’m required to buy candy, flowers, and other gifts for my significant other to express my undying love and affection?  So, it’s ok to fight and not show love and affection on the 13th and 15th of the month, but on the 14th, you better get her some flowers or she’ll think you don’t love her.

That’s fucking stupid.  Why should I be required to buy my significant other something to show my feelings on a random day in February?  This holiday is by far the stupidest and most pointless of all holidays.  I mean, I’d rather celebrate Arbor Day and Columbus Day than Valentine’s Day.

Valentine’s Day is terrible.  It makes single people feel like shit for being alone, and it makes me feel guilty for not wanting to buy my girlfriend anything.  Obviously, I still bought her stuff (c’mon, I still want to get laid).  But why should today be any different from tomorrow?  Why am I required to shower her with love today, as opposed to always?  Shouldn’t you always show your loved one affection?  Shouldn’t you always tell them how much you appreciate them?  Shouldn’t you always attempt to make time for the two of you, where you have a nice dinner and some non after-fight-make-up sex?  Why are we all allowing ourselves to fall victim to the massive, massive fraudulence that is Valentine’s Day?

I let Kelly know one year in advance that this will be the last Valentine’s Day we actually celebrate together.  I want to give her time to get un-brainwashed, and to realize how irrational it is to expect more love on one day than any other.  I want all of her female friends to take notice, too.  I’m not dumb, I know that if/when I don’t get her something, all of you will turn on me like this is an 8th grade dance and I just slow danced to some Boyz II Men song with another girl.

All of you females out there need to take a deep breath and reevaluate this holiday.  Of course you want presents, who doesn’t?  But wouldn’t it be great if he got you flowers out of the blue, just because he loves you?  You know, rather than because he feels obligated to.  Any man that says they enjoy Valentine’s Day and don’t feel obligated in the slightest is a fucking liar.  Look, I’m a pretty romantic guy and get all lovey-dovey more often than not, but jesus, you can’t force this shit on people.

Valentine’s Day is a bad, bad thing, and I urge all of you to stop contributing irrationality and complete madness.

Not a Memo…A Mission Statement.

I don’t understand spandex.  I realize that some girls are sluts and want to show off their asses, but not all of you who wear such attire are, in fact, floozies.  So why do all of you still wear this?

This morning, in my Social Inequality class, I counted seven girls wearing spandex/yoga pants.  SEVEN.  I default to the term “spandex” even though I don’t think that’s what they’re actually called.  All I know is it looks like they sprayed their pants on, and it’s very easy to tell who is wearing underwear and who isn’t.  It’s alarming.  Look, I understand we have class at 8am, so you want to just roll out of bed and come to class.  Great.  That’s why God invented sweat pants.  Or, you could wear a long shirt/jacket that covered your ass.  I mean, I’m not denying you have a nice ass, but you do realize that when it hugs the back, it hugs the front, too?  I don’t want to see that giant camel toe, lady.  Jesus, it looks like you have another ass in the front.

You should be leaving something to a guy’s imagination, and when I can see your fucking birth canal when you stand up, you should probably wear something less tight.

Also, don’t wear tank tops that are a size too small and then openly talk about how it pisses you off how guys stare at your cleavage all day.  (This actually happened)  Really?  You’re a D cup, and you’re wearing a black bra with a white tank top that is a small.  Please, stop complaining.  You’re doing it on purpose, and you’re a fucking whore.

It’s not just Cascadia (although the number of chicks doing this is growing by leaps and bounds).  I was out shopping today, and the outfit of the day seemed to be spandex pants with ugg boots and a sweatshirt.  I literally saw 4 different girls at the store wearing exactly what I just described.  I don’t know what the hell is happening to our youth, but fuck, we need to step in and do something.  Fucking MTV is probably to blame, and you can blame gross Britney Spears, too.

I don’t really understand any of this, but I want it to stop.  I want girls to have more self-respect and realize that when the douche bags in class talk to you, they’re not interested in your personality, they’re interested in getting inside of that giant moose knuckle you call a vagina.  Cover up, put your tits away, and let people realize that you’re semi-intelligent and have opinions about things other than Jersey Shore and Starbucks.

To quote Dave Chappell:

“Just because I’m dressed this way, does not make me a whore.”
And they’re right. Gentlemen, don’t forget that. Just because they dress a certain way, doesn’t mean they act a certain way. But ladies, you have to understand, that shit is fucking confusing. You might not be a whore, but you sure are wearing a whore’s uniform.

Every time I think my faith in humanity has been temporarily restored, something like this happens.

AOL loves Kyle Rancourt.

Also worth mentioning; over the past week, these are the terms people entered into search engines like Yahoo, Google, and AOL that eventually led them to click on the link to my blog:

• kyle rancourt
• kyle rancourt shoes
• best war movies ever made
• what is meant by “rational behavior”?
• love affair with peyton manning
• “Jeff’s a fucking liar, Timmy!”
• old people shouldn’t have facebook
• captain morgan avatar
• jack bauer stabbed then throws knife
• james patterson is attrocious
• subservient husbands
• peyton manning+mistake
• fuck james patterson
• “alright, we’ll get one more”
• palin retarded child
• sad arab woman
• scene alex masturbates Jeff’s mom

I was being 100% serious and pulling them off my blog stat counter.  I think my favorites are Palin retarded child, sad arab woman, subservient husbands, and the question about what is rational behavior.  I can honestly say I don’t ever remember talking about Palin’s retarded child, because that’d be way too easy.  Not sure when I ever mentioned anything arabic, but I’m pretty sure whenever I mention Brad, that’s where the subservient husband comes into play.  Zing!

And the Grandma’s Boy scene thing happens a lot, actually.  I didn’t realize that when I was doing the whole Top 25 movies thing, that people search for quotes from movies all the time, and every now and then, I’d get a random quote from a movie, and it’d send them here.  I think it’s awesome that instead of searching for a quote, however, they were very interested in the bathroom scene where Alex is rubbing one out to a Lara Croft action figure, and then turns around and showers Jeff’s mom with his seed as she so abruptly walks in on him.  I guess that’s what she gets for not knocking.

PS: I think it’s money that the snippet AOL has under the link to that blog post about Peyton Manning mentions that I want to punch a Mormon baby.  That made me laugh really, really hard.

Double PS: Hah.  I just said really, really hard.

TRIPLE PS:  I’m a fucking child.

Quote of the Week.

You Jew.

Mikey, I’m not Jewish.

Well, you’re a douche.  … Jew-ouche!

– Mikey to his buddy Isaac, who looks like Eugene Levy’s son.  So, yeah, Jewish.

Quasi-Self Promotion.

As most of you know, I’m an utterly shameless self-promoter.  I don’t hesitate to randomly mention how awesome KyleRancourt.com is, or “strongly encourage” you to visit.  However, I feel the need to promote a different Kyle Rancourt at the current moment.

That’s right, a different Kyle Rancourt.  Weird, I know.

A few years ago, when MySpace was still chic and vogue, I got a message from some random guy named Kyle.  He asked me if my full name was indeed Kyle Rancourt; I was curious as to why he was inquiring, so I answered instead of just deleting his message.  Turns out, his name is Kyle Rancourt, too.  Weird.

I mean, I understand that I don’t have the most unique last name in the history of Jesus, but Rancourt isn’t super common like Smith, Jones, or Hensel, either.  So to find another person with my exact name was pretty cool.

It gets weirder.  Turns out, his birthday is August 13th, 1984.  Which means he is exactly one day older than I am.  I mean, honestly, what are the odds?  Another dude with the same exact last name and he was born the day before me?  I was totally due on August 13th, and I was born at 12:07am, so if I had made the trip out of the womb 8 minutes sooner, we’d share a birthday.  Just crazy shit.

(For those wondering, no, we look nothing alike.  He’s like a foot taller than I am, and can grow a pretty un-sketchy beard.)

Anyways, there was an article written about Kyle and his father, Michael, and their shoe company in Maine.  It’s pretty cool, and I just felt like passing it onto you guys since when you read it, it sort of makes me look important by default.  Minus the fact that my dad’s name isn’t Michael, and that I live about as far as geographically possible away from Maine without leaving the US.

So, enjoy.  Even if you don’t know the guy (hell, we don’t really know each other, but we’re Facebook friends, so that counts for somethin’ I guess), you can pretend it’s me and viola, your interest has been peaked.

Sun Journal.  Lewiston, Maine.

Yawn.

Another Monday evening, another mundane, stale, completely uninteresting episode of a show that used to be amazing.  (Cue the angry responses by Brad, Sarah, and Kelly.)

There was about 3 minutes worth of “Oh, shit, that was awesome” and a lot of scratching my balls, waiting for something to happen.  If you didn’t catch last night’s episode, don’t read on (ehem, Bradley).

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