Flowers, candy, knives and ammo

We don't celebrate a traditional kind of Valentine's Day in the Army household. No sirree.

I asked Army of Dad what he'd like for Valentine's Day. Ammo was his reply. Ammo for Valentine's? Nothing says love like being well armed, I suppose.

For me, I think I'm pretty easy to buy for. Sexy underwear are always a good choice. Flowers are good. A personal defense knife would be appreciated. Yeah, you read that right. I want a blade. A fila. A filero. (just in case you want to be on the low down and get some street creds, you can bone up - oops wrong term - on the gang slang here. )

I don't know what kind of knife I want, but something that would hurt any asshole who thought he might make me a victim. I don't think I'd have any qualms about shoving a knife up some jerk's guts or in his eye-socket, maybe his throat if he was coming at me with ill intents. *shrug* I don't know that I'll get a knife, but I know there are some gifts that are highly unlikely.

Jewelry - I already have more than I can ever wear.

No candy - trying to get rid of some of this lard ass and he can't (honestly with a straight face) tell me that my ass isn't fat.

Flowers being delivered are highly unlikely because I'm not real sure the make-shift airplane hanger/office complex at the airport actually has a physical mailing address where a florist could figure out how to get there, although EVERY woman wants flowers delivered to work. It is comparable to comparing dick size, I think. Just imagine this little exchange.

Woman No. 1: Wow. Did you see the size of the arrangement Sue's husband sent to her?
Woman No. 2: Yeah. Makes my husband look like a total loser with the crappy little coffee cup with flowers he sent me.
Woman No. 1: Yeah, all I got was a stupid mylar balloon attached to a cheesey stuffed animal in a striped trusty uniform that says "prisoner of love."
Woman No. 2: How gay! And you married this guy?
Woman No. 1: Yeah, I was over 30 and lonely. He was there.
Woman No. 2: How sad is that? The new girl in the cubicle on the end. She doesn't even have a faggoty little stuffed animal with a balloon.
Woman No. 1: Yeah. I don't guess she'll be doling out any loving tonight. Poor schmuck.
Woman No. 2: Poor schmuck? She's the only woman here without flowers. Ok, except the fat chicks and the lesbos.
Woman No. 1: Nope, you're wrong there. That one lez has flowers from her life partner. Ok, not really flowers, but a potted plant.
Woman No. 2: My bad. *shaking her head*
Woman No. 1: It is so sad.

Hint to the men: Don't be THAT guy who doesn't get his girl flowers. Kroger and most grocery stores set up tents out in the parking lot where you can just drive up and buy your dozen roses for $19.99. Dude. Suck it up. Do it. Army of Dad is always good about getting me some flowers. This will be the first Valentine's that I've worked outside of the house since 1998. So, he may be rusty on digging out the debit card and calling the florist. Plus, like I said, delivery is pretty iffy. I can see him giving the same directions I gave him to get there. Ha.

Ok, so jewelry and candy is out. Flowers picked up on the way home from work Monday night are likely. Stuffed animals are out. I have more than I could ever need.

Some new panties may be a possibility. I don't have a black g-string or thong and could use one to go with my black bra. I like this one (and only wish my ass looked that good in one! Wow!).

Hmm. Oh yeah, a new CD would be good, too. I would REALLY like to have the John Mayer one. That is music to sex by. But, that is another blog entry. I'm supposed to be writing some press releases for a media kit. I need to do that. Army of Dad is at a soccer coaches' meeting and should be home any minute now.