I will keep this fairly short considering its a very simple complaint.

I don't know if it is just me, but I generally encounter a problem when I am at a sleepover/party where I am up really late. Everything is going smoothly until the clock strikes twelve. At this point, someone generally says something that really pisses me off.

When referencing to something that will be happening in the course of the upcoming day, many people, when talking about it, will refer to it as "tomorrow," then laugh, correct themselves, and say "I mean today." If I had a dime for everytime I heard someone use this line, I would be filthy stinking rich.

This is one of the lamest, most overrused jokes/sayings of my time. I personally feel the new day doesn't begin until either the sun comes up, or you wake up. Though the stroke of midnight technically brings with it a new day, everyone knows that night is still going strong.

Also annoying, as suggested by Pheel, is when a teacher will say that an assignment is due tomorrow on a Friday, and some kid will say, "you mean Monday."

This is just something that has bothered me for some time, and I can only assume many others feel similarly. So please, next time you feel inclined to use this line, or some variation of this line, remember to shut your mouth.

Say you have a decent size driveway and it happened to snow 14 inches all over it while you were sleeping. You would need to snow blow or shovel the snow off your driveway obviously. You get all 14 inches off and walk inside. While your inside some dude comes by and blocks you in with a huge mound of snow at the end of your driveway. This dude is known to the world as "the snow plow." Not the snow plow man but "The Snow Plow." His job title is the actual name of the piece of equipment attached to the front of a truck. Maybe he is bitter after years of being referred to as a piece of metal? I don’t know the correct reason, but this bastard loves to screw everyone over with a mid day pile of snow. Even if your outside shoveling the man will put a big pile of snow on your driveway right in front of you. That takes balls ladies and gentleman, big steel balls. Now in all seriousness snow plows save lives and clear our streets and thank god society has them, but damnit why? Why must they block everyone’s driveway in. After doing it for I don’t know, forever? They haven’t come up with a better system?

Is there some sort of unknown war that the snow plows have launched against the neighborhood people of this country? Is plowing my driveway in and dropping salt all over our roads that children cut their knees on during the summer, a military strike? If this is true, god damnit I give in to whatever your demands are, for my parents have not approved my purchasing of a paint ball gun. Without the paintball gun and also most likely a pair of huge steel balls your scrotum has to shoot at you, I will not be able to win this war. If I make it through this winter I am retreating and going south for college, god be with you northern neighborhood people, if you survive I hope to see you all someday .

We are approaching mid-February, which indicates two "important" dates are on the horizon... President's and Valentine's Day.

The latter, the most ridiculous, overcommercialized holdiday of all, is this Tuesday. I'm convinced, Saint Valentine worked for Hallmark. He decided the best way to succeed was to CREATE a holiday. It tortures the couple-less and fattens the pockets of flower peddlers and greeting card companies. Everywhere you look, there's an abrasive mixtures of red and pink.

Valentine's day is a day where people from all walks of life announce their love and eternal allegiance to one another. While there is nothing wrong with this, I wonder why we need to specially designate a day to do this. This act of letting our loved ones know how much we care should be performed regularly on one's own throughout the year, rather than on a date set forth by some forgotten Roman Emperor, and perpetuated by greeting card companies and florists. I would much rather have someone tell me how much they care of their own volition, not because Hallmark and other greeting cards companies urge them to.

The real story of Saint Valentine goes somehting like this... and I'm paraphrasing. St. Valentine was a priest in the Roman Empire under the oppressive rule of Claudius II. Claudius banned marriages involving people a young ago, for he feared they would refuse to leave their new wives and go to war. St. Valentine spoke out against this policy, and helped young people marry in secret. For his belief in love over war, St. Valentine was bludgeoned to death and beheaded on the 14th February 269 AD.

Honoring this martyr is, in all honesty, a cool idea. Having someone sacrafice their life in order to help young people wed during a period when they were not allowed is honorable, yet I am sure Saint Valentine didn't forsee the ridiculous holdiay which his date of death has turned into.

This Valentine's Day, I urge you abandon the ornately decorated box of chocolates and other cutsie gifts. How much use will the gift receiver actually derive from such presents? Instead, purchase or make the one you care for a gift that require some thought. Spend time with the person you care about not because card companies and florists compel you to, but because its something you genuinely want to do. I know that's what I will be doing.

While I do not condem Valentine's Day (I celebrate it myself), I do frown upon its commercialism and corny nature. I just wish it was more genuine. If this is realized, then Valentine's Day won't be so bad. But until then, I will continue to cringe when I see stuffed pink teddy bears and those candy hearts that taste like TUMS antacids.

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If you are caught off guard, I apologize for the seriousness of this entry. This is the blog in rare form, but I just felt like writing something different for a change. So, actually, I take back that apology. If you don't like it, screw you.