Valentine’s Day Has Lost Its Original Purpose: Raw Dogging (By: St. Valentine)

Happy Valentine’s Day, jerk-offs! It’s me, Saint Valentine, here to set the record straight on some messed up shit regarding my holiday. The government and heads of marketing’s evil money making schemes have filtered into America’s commercialism, and programmed a chip into our brains! Those lizard people are forcing us to buy cheaply-made red and pink merchandise instead of celebrating what originally achieved my sainthood: straight raw dogging with as many maidens as possible. All this commercialism…it’s loveless and it’s certainly NOT groovy. Wake up sheeple!


I think what gets me most heated about this whole situation, man, is that no one really knows my true history. Everyone thinks I was named a saint because I was a martyr and a simp, but that’s not the whole story. What happened was, I was getting baked with my boys in our usual Sunday smoke circle after Mass, you know. I got so faded that morning, man, I swear to God I saw God, like the man upstairs came down the stairs and was right in front me. He said something along the lines of being fruitful, multiplying, repopulating the Earth, the whole sha-bang (but raw). From that day on, February 14, I switched out from my usual pull-out method and a linen handkerchief covering on my dick, and just went full on raw-dog like God intended. But the Church wasn’t digging this origin story of mine. It wasn’t “PC” enough for them. Well, you know what, Pope Felix I, you can’t even raw dog yourself. I guess what I’m trying to say is, man, the truth isn’t always PC. It’s not always going to be all sunshine, rainbows, and birth control-sponsored missionary. Sometimes it’s doggy-style raw-dogging, and it deserves the attention in bringing Our Creator Almighty’s message to life.


You know what, this same thing happened to Santa—pardon me, Jesus. The birth of Jesus was supposed to be the reason for the season, and now people are foaming at the mouth at the sight of a pine tree, some tinsel, and a Mariah Carey song. And now, Valentine’s Day is getting the same sacrilegious treatment. What was once regarded as a noble commemoration of me bumping uglies, hard, and without any protection at all, has been reduced to “puppy love” in the form of roses, cards, and teddy bears. So what’s next? Hershey-sponsored sex-ed? A dozen roses with a note that says “Remember to wear a condom?” Grody! The war on Christmas is now the war on St. Valentine…and I don’t want to make war, I want to make love…without a rubber!


Man, I was so afraid my holiday would be commercialized like my pals St. Nick and St. Patrick because honestly, it’s really taken a toll on them. St. Nick is now 300 pounds and has suddenly started reindeer fighting rings and St. Patrick? Well, he’s still drinking a lot, but it’s a sad kind of drinking. But when I fly into Heaven Target for some snacks, I see a whole section full of stuffed animals. Why did we have to skin these animals alive and gift them to lovers? And the hearts that are full of chocolate. How dare you do that to such a vital organ! The whole commercialization makes me shudder! Where is the lube? The burning pile of condoms, man? Where is the mannequin display of two star-crossed lovers passionately raw dogging it? It’s like Valentine’s Day, my day, has lost the magic unprotected touch and I won’t stand for it.


And don’t even get me started, man, on Hallmark. This Kansas City-based regime is the mastermind of commercialization of Valentine’s Day. They aren’t saints, you know. See, they’re calling it a ‘Hallmark Holiday.’ I knew I should have copyrighted the name with that lawyer centuries ago. Also, what’s with the candy hearts that says ‘Be Mine?’ That’s not the customary greeting for Valentine’s Day. I took upon it myself to take a marker and cross off every candy heart message from ‘I Love You’ to just say ‘Raw Dog Me.’ And I’ve seen the Hallmark greeting cards. The rhymes are cute and all, but are you telling me something didn’t rhyme with “I Want You To Have Sex With Me Without A Condom?”


But this year doesn’t have to be ruled by Hallmark, a stuffed animal, or a candy organ. The only organ we should be celebrating is the one without a condom going in and out of a lover or even better, a stranger. We can bring the Holy Spirit right out of Heaven’s Gates and back into Valentine’s Day, a holiday meant for lots of fluid, not lots of chocolate. So leave the greeting cards and condoms behind, and get to raw dogging. What’s the worst that can happen? Your life is cut short by raising an unwanted Scorpio.