Let’s go back to a simpler time. Travel with me to a small elementary school in the south of California. The year is 1985, and young Zero has a crush on one of the random girls in his second grade class. Being the young pimp that he was, he knew there would be only one way to get this infatuation returned; an Optimus Prime Valentines Day card.
You know how you used to buy an entire pack of Transformers Valentines cards and there would be only one Optimus Prime? You give that one to someone special. You expect something special in return. What did Zero get?
“What the fuck is My Little Pony?” That was the thought that ran through his head as the disappointment set in. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting, maybe a blow job behind the bleachers, but that cheap little piece of shit girly card was not what he had traded Optimus Prime for. He was jaded, and it would not be he last time.
Flash forward a few years; it was the early nineties and little Zero had grown up a bit. Times had changed; Optimus Prime would not work anymore. Zero’s girlfriend wanted a heart-locket chain gold thingy. Seeing that Valentines Day could also be like Christmas, Zero dropped some hints that he could use a nice, fresh bag of weed. Actually, the hints were more like words written on the wall. “Buy me a bag of weed if you love me,” he would tell her. “Don’t worry, I am going to give you the thing you want most in this world” she would respond. Her reassurances made zero comfortable that he made himself clear.
Imagine his surprise on the dreadful day when he received a box full of condoms, not sweet smelling herbs. “You can have me! We can have sex and cuddle all day!” This was not what he wanted most. He could fuck this bitch all day everyday. What he wanted now was to get stoned. He definitely did not want to be stuck hugging up with this cunt all day long. Feeling ripped off, Zero thought “What the fuck” yet again.
More years pass and young Zero grows into a man of 25. He again finds himself in the position of buying a Valentines Day gift for a woman. This time his girlfriend wants nothing more than to have Zero hang out with her family on the evil day. Zero wants nothing more than to get drunk. She assures him that there will be plenty of alcohol.
Now, this is where the writer takes a step back from the story for a little rant. Don’t tell me you are going to have alcohol then break out some snobby brand of wine. I am a man; I drink beer or hard liquor. I’m not the type to hang out with your dad toasting the stock market. As a matter of fact, I would rather drink cheap vodka behind the liquor store with crack head Willy; at least he makes me laugh.
I have never felt so out of place in my life. Imagine me, a furniture mover covered in tattoos wearing an old moving t-shirt, surrounded by a bunch of old rich white men in suits discussing the economic repercussions of pork prices. Now, I like bacon just as much as the next guy, but unless it is a big fat greasy sandwich with my name on it, I don’t want to hear about that shit when I’m drinking. Without any further explanation of how badly that situation went, we will now finish the story.
I, Zero, now find myself at the ripe old age of 29 pondering what gift to give the few girls I am casually having sex with. The logical answer would be “Nothing, fuck those bitches”, but I got a better idea. I’m going back to the old school to fix things; make things right so to speak.
I scoured the internet a few days ago and found some old cheap Transformers Valentines Day card images. I printed out a bunch of the Optimus Prime images and cut the paper in the shape of a card. These will be my gifts. It is 90% assured I will get a blow job somewhere around that day from the sheer old-schoolness of my trickery.
It may have taken 20 some odd years, but little Zero is finally going to get his blowjob for that god damn Optimus Prime card.
Happy Valentines Day fuckers.
