the tradesman's daughter is unsurprisingly cynical;

[boughdidbreak]

I really ought to know better than open this book at this time of year.

Let me save you all the trouble:

Blahblahblah Valentine's Day! blahblahblah somebody loves you! blahblahblah too much chocolate blahblah [doodled string of hearts here - she's even broken out the red marker] blahblah dates blahblah crowds blahblah I hate my boyfriend blahblah

Comments

[wearingshirts]

I don't think that will work. :(

[boughdidbreak]

Now, now. Hope is not an empty word.

[wearingshirts]

WELL I HOPE YOU'RE RIGHT. I get tired of reading about Garrison all the time and like, WHATEVER.

[boughdidbreak]

Garrison? Keillor?

[wearingshirts]

Gaylord? What?

[boughdidbreak]

There's someone named Gaylord? Man, their mom was a bitch.

[wearingshirts]

REALLY? God, that must SUCK. That name is just ASKING for trouble.

[boughdidbreak]

This is quickly becoming one of the more confused conversations I've ever had.

But sure! Gaylord? Not a name for the 21st century.

[wearingshirts]

OH. Garrison = Gabe and Harrison. YOU PRETTY MUCH CAN'T MISS THEM.

I think I have an uncle named Gaylord.

[boughdidbreak]

Oh, them!

Jesus Christ they make me want to spork my eyes out.

[wearingshirts]

ME TOO. Egging their house is not good enough for revenge for the DAMAGE TO MY EYES.

[boughdidbreak]

That's dedication.

[wearingshirts]

It's WAR.

And I get bored at work sometimes.

[boughdidbreak]

Pixie stix-fueled warfare is not a procrastination technique I've ever considered, gotta admit.

[wearingshirts]

I don't eat pixie stix, though.