Valentine's Day is not my favorite holiday (although not for the single-woman-in-the-city-cliché
reasons you might expect, mind you). However, my coworkers are slowly showing me the proverbial light. And what better way to pierce my cold metal heart than through gifts and cubicle decorations? They doubled my joy during Christmastime. First, they
printed out Flock of Seaguls hair with which to decorate my Putin masquerade mask (who wouldn't get jolly over that?!). Then they gave me
the gift of Norm Coleman (R-Minn.) a.k.a. the hottest man in the legislative branch (seriously, does it get better?!). And now they've done it again.
Except this time, in place of Russian presidents and sexy congressmen, they've presented me with English nobility. So, without further ado, please meet
Lil' Lord Doucheington,* my Valentine.
"His stool is not loose."
In reality, however, his pants are
not tighter than mine.
Not even close.
But he loves me so I'll forgive his trouser miscalculation.
May you all find your very own Lil' Lord Doucheington! Happy Valentine's Day!
Love,
The Anti DC
*Thank you, The Superficial, for introducing my coworkers and I to the venerable Lil' Lord. You've changed my life.
"His stool is not loose."
In reality, however, his pants are not tighter than mine.
Not even close.
But he loves me so I'll forgive his trouser miscalculation.
4 comments:
If I had three hours to prepare every morning, that's exactly what my hair would look like. I'm in awe of it.
It really is quite something, isn't it? He's a magical lil' douche lord, he is.
Dear hot pants,
happy valentine's day.
Dear Boner Stabone,
Happy Valentine's Day.
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