10 Best Mens Boxers For Sweat

Best Mens Boxers For Sweat in 2023

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Anti-Valentine's Day: a Guide for the Cynic

Humorously describes six ways to celebrate an anti-Valentine's Day -- Chuck E. Cheese, boxer shorts, working late, adopting a reptile, casting doubt on friends' relationships, spending time with your mother.

The downward cycle begins with the formulation of New Year's resolutions which I can't even fool myself into thinking I will keep. This year, I read a chirpy article written by another teacher who suggested that a one-word resolution, like "patience," could be deeply rewarding. Most of my one word resolutions were too obscene to tell you, so you'll have to settle for this hint.

Next on the calendar is Valentine's Day. I'm a divorced single parent. I believe this holiday was actually designed by my former in-laws to taunt me. Therefore, I created some ways of my own to celebrate. That's right, it's anti-Valentine's Day in the old Clarke household.

First, I take the family somewhere. Typically it's somewhere only a woman with kids could enjoy. In other words, it's not romantic at all. For example, the kids still enjoy Chuck E. Cheese, particularly the eighteen year old, since he can beat all the small kids at the games and get all the prize tickets. If it was a different unHoliday, like Thanksgiving, then I would have to badger him to inflict his winnings on a smaller kid in the pizza parlor. Such virtue has its pitfalls. For example, if my son hasn't shaved, the little largesse recipient might panic and yell "Stranger danger!" But on anti-Valentine's Day, we get to keep the winnings, and spend them on candy. Usually the Airheads get stuck in my daughter's braces.

Second, I buy myself a present. Generally, my anti-Valentine's present to myself celebrates not having to please someone else. For example, I can sleep in Wonder Woman undershorts instead of picking anal floss out of my backside due to a sexy thong. I don't care if there is a gap in the boxer front which I can't fill. California is pretty warm at night anyway.

Another way to celebrate anti-Valentine's Day is to work late. We need the money, after all. It looks good if I'm still grading and xeroxing while the nubile young marrieds rush off to a romantic dinner. My kids don't want me home early anyway. Sometimes I'm tempted to make the kids turn off their video games and do their homework, for example. My teenage sons have prayed to be latchkey kids since my ex walked out on us eight years ago (at Christmas, another holiday where we now confound the neighbors by putting up a menorah as well as a Christmas tree. They know we're atheists).

Fourth, I adopt something ugly, like a reptile. Last year we got turtles in Little Shanghai. We picked the cheapest ones. They don't make puppy dog eyes at me. They're still alive, because, unromantically, we read the instruction manual as the evening's entertainment. Nobody put any bows or hearts on Ren and Stimpy. We did have turtle races, though, but gave up in utter boredom.

To really cap your anti-Valentine's Day, I recommend making your friends feel depressed about the relationships they're in. One of my friends moved to Sweden to make her husband happy. Really. I bet she's cold. I e-mailed her a picture of a palm tree. I told another friend that her husband drinks too much. Actually, he does.

That brings me to a final suggestion. Instead of sharing a bottle of Dom Perignon saved since the wedding reception, try a mug of Ovaltine with your mother. It has iron in it, and tastes really chocolaty. And your mother can tell you stories about World War II. At least, my mom can. She hates Valentine's Day, too. She says it's a manufactured holiday. I try to imagine a special factory, turning out holidays for me to sabotage. I bet they make calendars on the side. I would.