Drinking with Raucus: Bromley vs The Valentine's Day Massacre

No holiday drains my bank account and sex drive faster than Valentine's Day. The first part stemming from me buying her flowers that will die in four days, chocolates that won't make her any slimmer and pay for our dinner while she'll just pick at it.

I know what you're thinking, it's worth it and you'll get laid.  Which brings us to the second element.  On Valentine's Day you don't have hot, animalistic, primal sex.  Nope, you make love.  Pretty gay, huh? It's like a slow jerk, after a minute it just gets creepy.  

Which got me to thinking about VD (Valentine's Day, not venereal disease). What if we condensed it down into a manageable load?  

Answer: It would be awesome.  By combining all the best parts it makes VD easier to swallow.  Without further adieu I present The Valentine's Day Massacre!

Happy VD everybody,

Cody