So today may be Valentine’s Day, the world’s lamest holiday to throw money away on, but you may or may not know that this stupid-ass card and candy exchanging day was originally a replacement for a Roman holiday called Lupercalia.

To quote Wikipedia:

The religious ceremonies were directed by the Luperci, the “brothers of the wolf”, priests of Faunus, dressed only in a goatskin. During Lupercalia, a dog and two male goats were sacrificed. Two patrician youths were anointed with the blood, which was wiped off with wool soaked in milk, after which they were expected to smile and laugh. The Luperci afterwards dressed themselves in the skins of the sacrificed goats, in imitation of Lupercus, and ran round the Palatine Hill with straps, cut from the skins, in their hands. These were called Februa. Girls would line up on their route to receive lashes from these whips. This was supposed to ensure fertility.

Let’s see… You got goat killing, dog sacrificing and pouring blood over rich young men. There’s some dairy in the mix, nothing wrong with that… Next you’re dressing the bloody dudes in goat costumes, forcing them to laugh and smile while they whip young women with animal skin. Hmmm.

Now that sounds like a fucking holiday.

Why on earth are people still sending cards, buying flowers and [gags on vomit] going to church on this day, when you could be covered in blood, whipping some chick? Where the fuck have our values and priorities gone?

Whoopee, wave the fucking flags, people. It’s motherfucking Blog Day 2005! Tequila shots all around. Everyone, let’s get fucked up and fondle the nearest bag-lady. This is how we’re gonna roll. It’s what’s for dinner. Rock.

Seriously, consider this the semi-anti-Blog Day 2005 post. Semi-serious because I do intend to list my five favorite blogs as the website asks you to do. Anti-Blog Day because I’m an asshole and creating days for anything is just fucking stupid. Let’s create a day for my left testicle. Mark your calendars, August 31st is hereby renamed Dave’s Left Nut Day. Celebrate by kicking your grandfather in the balls (or any old man, really) and sending me cash and home-cooked meals. Quit fucking around and do it!

Anyway, I now present my five top favorite blogs.

1. lironbot.com
   Liron is my evil, penguin-thumping partner in crime. She lives in Israel. We used to work for the same company at one point, she in Tel Aviv and I in New York. I credit this monkey with inspiring me to start my own website and blog and to learn hand coding. She let’s me call her Cheeseball.
2. BoingBoing.net
   Everyone else reads it. Why be original?
3. masamania.com
   I don’t know if he’s still in the porn business, but Masa lives in Tokyo and runs a not so pretty looking and really slow loading non-porn oriented photoblog that, aside from the rough edges is straight up fucking awsome. It’s funny as hell and he really does have an eye for finding interesting things. I really enjoy his site, when I can get it to load.
4. Kotaku.com
   A site that covers video games and the consoles we spank. I’m a video game junkie and I’m not afraid to sing it out loud.
5. Spamusement.com
   This dude writes daily crappy cartoons based on subject headings of actual spam emails he receives. He is a genius. I never really visit his site,but rather subscribe to his RSS feed because it does a hell of a better job displaying his content than his actual site.

That’s it! Remember, kids, August 31st, 2006 is Dave’s Left Nut Day. Fuck this blog shit.

Fuck Saint Patrick’s day. If there ever was a holiday to be hauled back behind the shed and shot, this day is a definite contender. Today isn’t about Irish pride, it’s an excuse to get shitfaced, pretend your Irish or talk up the fact that 75 years ago your Norwegian grandmother may have possibly given a blow job to a drunk sailer from Dublin and thereby qualifying you to stand there like an asshole at the bar, drinking your green beer and pontificating on your Irishness. It’s pathetic. Irish pride is not what you think it is. The Irish don’t drink because they’re all alcoholics, they drink because historically, they been fucked in the ass by everyone and their mothers. They’ve been enlsaved, slaughtered, starved, taxed, invaded, raped, you name it. You’d kind of want a drink after all that. Irish pride is a quiet, muttering pride with shades of bitterness. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, we’re still alive and Laird willing, those bastards’ll let us live another year.” It’s that kind of mentality. Piss, vinegar and religious guilt. Add some grey wool clothing, a few potatoes and bad teeth and BAM wlecome to being Irish.

Now you might think, daveb, WTF? Hate the Irish much? Actually boys and girls, daveb was born and raised in an Irish family. A supremely disfunctional one (see: typical Irish family). He actually enjoys it too, just not the family part. He puts his natural ability to ramble on for hours about nothing to the little green man that lives under the rainbow of his hereditary gene pool. He’s a natural asshole and malcontent. Whether that’s what connects him to his Irish roots or is a direct result of them, who knows, it works for daveb.