The Feast of St. Valentine is coming up just around the corner.  I know what you’re thinking: “But Jack!  It feels like Martin Luther King, Jr. Day was only yesterday!”

I sympathize with your disbelief, I do, but don’t worry, there’ll be another one next year, I promise.  Besides, I think what we have right now is a genuine opportunity to take an in-depth look at what Valentine’s Day really means for normal, everyday people like you and I.  Well, normal, everyday people like you, anyway.

*Ahem.* What  a lot of people don’t know is that the modern Valentine’s Day was likely a descendent of the old Roman fertility festival of Lupercalia, which was celebrated in part by bathing one’s self in the blood of two freshly-sacrificed goats and one dog, hence the origin of ‘My Bloody Valentine.’

Naturally, this was a little too freaky even for the perpetually blood-soaked Romans, who at this point were already getting plenty of flack from PETA, and an executive decision was made to make the whole thing a lot more family-friendly.

So, we went from a pagan holiday where people had sex for the hell of it to a Christian holiday where people plan on having sex for the hell of it, but then at the last minute one involved party backs out because they “don’t want their relationship to be so stereotypical.”   You can thank the glories of modern society for creating a holiday that, in essence, celebrates the awkward snuggle.

This being the case, it might not surprise you to learn the creators of the contemporary Valentine’s Day were the same people who decided the death of Jesus Christ  would be commemorated by having a giant, anthropomorphic bunny rabbit break into people’s homes and leave behind gift baskets full of truly breathtaking items, such as store-brand jelly beans.

Anyway, fake history lesson aside, for those of you unawares (Hey there, Ladies…) I remain single for Valentine’s Day because, technically, my own reflection does not count as a love interest.  But even with that as the case, I am nowhere near shallow enough to advertise myself to others on the Mirror’s dime.  I am, however, quite shallow enough to do the same for my younger brother of two-and-a-half years, Dennis.

Girls!  Have you found that the Fairfield-brand McNamaras just aren’t right for you?  Do you find them more clingy and bizarre than a leopard-print Snuggie fresh out of the dryer?

Well, look no further, because now you can have Pennsylvania State University’s most available bachelor, the ‘Dennis!’  He’s got everything the previous model doesn’t!  He’s younger!  Taller!  Beard-ier!  And he’s got an iPhone!

The (love) operator is standing by!  Call ***-***-**** NOW!

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