bouquet: the conundrum

i think you'd be more
interesting to talk with if
i ripped out your tongue.




why do boys send girls flowers? what's the symbolism in that? do they do it just because they grow up thinking it's the thing that must be done? and why do girls like it? aren't flowers infinitely more attractive when they're in the ground thriving and growing?


boy: look, accessible vagina, i mean, honey, i've brought you these strange colored plants to prove to you that i love you! i know that they have nothing to do with you, being merely a reflection of a societal norm whose origins i know nothing about, but i can't ever seem to get enough blood in my brain to actually think about who you are and what you like! i know you don't care, though, because everyone knows flowers are the best thing to give any girl on any occasion!

girl: pretty! yes, i understand that now i must forgive you for balling that 13-year-old four times last week and for constantly calling me by the wrong name! come talk about how fun and hot every girl you've ever known has been while i put these in a vase!

(couple regains desired state of bliss. flowers shrivel and disintegrate in their browning water. cat eats decorative greenery and hacks up festive puddle of mucus on the carpet.)

is the majority of the human race honestly just a troop of consenting moo-cows? i must be so spoiled. i've had friends who actually put a little effort into things: my darling sarah ann, who made beautifully anarchisitic and disturbing collage art out of old natural history journals and then laminated them with scotch tape, who made me tiny men with terrifying genitalia out of sparkly pipe cleaners and left them in my car while i was at work; matty, who drew me comic strips in high school and wraps all my gifts in brown packing paper that he illustrates with black sharpies, who was the only person who believed me when i said that all i wanted for christmas was a fillerbunny toy; rory, who for years sent me almost weekly letters filled with random trinkets like peanuts and shredded notebook paper and made me plaques out of his old triathlon trophies; and so many other amazing people who not only knew me almost better than i did, but who made sure i was aware of it. always.

i've tried to do the same for everyone i've established some sort of connection with. more often than not, though, i only end up frightening them away. i can't imagine why anyone would fear things like glow-in-the-dark lollipops or crayon drawings. i suppose it would be safest for me to stick to traditional displays of affection.

but then i'd be a liar.

forget about that. here, guys, just, listen for a second, okay? if you don't know a girl well enough to be able to think of something to offer her that will really mean something to her, to HER, then, i mean, why are you giving her anything? why do you want to be around her? even if it's only because you dig her legs, couldn't you give her some funky tights? just think, would you? geez.


this public service announcement has been brought to you by my allergies and the number 9.