No winners here.

Happy Valentines Day, Fatty!

Was it good? Did you have a nice night — chocolate and premium lump crabmeat dripping from your maw as you pledged love and ponies to your fat boyfriend? Did you guys inertwine your sausagelike fingers and wheeze down some twisty romantic little streets after dinner? Didja cap off the night by pushing aside your sacks of flesh to rub your sticky parts together before/as you fall asleep? At any point did you wonder how you got so fucking fat in just a 6 month relationship?

Happy Valentines Day, Skinny!

How was the bar? Superfun and not at all lonely? Was it just hilarious when you fell off the barstool and later joked about jamming a fork into your crotch since it’s pretty much useless anyways? Was it fun lowering your standards and stifling your gag reflex enough to hit on the one guy there without face dandruff or sweat circles? Was it tiring keeping track of him all night even after he showed no interest in you? Was it hard to get a cab with his puke in your hair? At least you’re not fat, right?

That seems to be the trade off — lonely skinny people become fat couples within just a few months of impressing each other with cocktails, shared desserts, and cab rides home. I have to buy new pants every time I stop saying “some dude I bone” and switch to “boyfriend”.

So, single people — quit denying yourself comfort and have a cupcake and a hug. Couples, join a gym.