Ah, Valentine's Day. I'll go ahead and link my 2008 rant, 'The Death of Twue Wove,' a.ka. 'The Grinch Who Shanked Cupid,' since I can't really top it. (Sorry for the dated political references.)
However, many of the "some e-cards" on relationships and Valentine's Day are pretty funny. You could almost tell a tale with them (and another graphic or two).
The implicit relationship contract:
I'm also amused by the ones on the internet, social media, Newt Gingrich and um, white people.
Finally, in recognition of twue wove and all its human flaws and small joys – as opposed to shallow, saccharine, commercialized cheap sentiment – here's one of the truly great love poems:
By William Shakespeare
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.