Love Note From Cupid

Tuesday, February 14th, Sunshine


Been busy setting up for a medieval art shoot, arranging picnic baskets, and lounging on one of those one knee high dais things for proposing. Gotta be flying in the treetops at ten-ish. Not too much time to write.

Spring is in the air, sorry about the chill—it’s not my department. Birdies chirping, furry critters purring, and the dulcet tones of harp plucking loooove—that’s all me. What a perfect season to find the one you want and mold them into someone who will put up with you. Ah Valentine’s— get lasso, gold card, and two pounds of endorphin rich solidified sucrose. I’m boycotting forced labor chocolate camps this year. Please pay top dollar for the stuff made by willing participants. Oompaloompas or no, I wanna see that the worker gets paid and nobody is getting exploited. Give pudding this year, or cherry twizzlers.

Don’t turn on the TV, or the radio, or read the news. I took a cruise in my dropped rail (bagged, 23″ Dubs pumpin love hurts on 12″ subs, bagged sweet, baby) and I hit the AM by accident! Yikes. Listened for five minutes and I’m stock piling gas, rice, and beans. Oh you humans, flittering and fluttering with your packaging and priorities, politics and popularity, you look like gerbils from up here. Dangerous gerbils. Actually, you look like a bunch of fuzzy round heads walking around, but I still love ya.

Who do you love? Every single person on the planet has the potential for a few moments of soul sharing joy of like. And for a monogamous go-lucky cupid like myself, shooting arrows should be easy this year. If I can just tilt peoples’ eyes from their wallets, studies, jobs, self interest, navels, and twitter, I could have a good season. I’m hoping to top Raphael’s numbers from the previous year. Mind you, I was a little bummed last go round—I had to walk. Wings got de-feathered during an in-store promo I did for the Lavender Barn. Never again.

So, dearest de mon coeur, I rarely get to see you all year. It should be a fun day, until the heartache. Hopefully for you, the infatuation turns into a comfortable sock. That’s the safest bet for long term stability. Maybe that’s what love is, seeking out one durable person because, whether they’re ballistic or balanced, they soothe like a long drink of water. It has got to be the two of you vs the world. All this time you’ve been saving up your good stuff and they’ve been saving it up for you. Now, if I can get you together before you both pop… the entire dating phase should last four hours. If the two of you aren’t knee deep in adventure by then, well, I screwed up. You want honesty? Take your date the next time you go to your pharmacist. Be the real you, and demand the real them. What is love? Love means getting all jiggly wiggly doing the dull stuff. If you can’t move slow, you’ll never make it fast. Sometimes, love means lugging home stupid landscaping rocks.

Now it could get lively out there, lot’s of huffing and puffing, courting and sweet nothings, but just remember… You don’t get to pick the one you love—I do. So keep your funny round head up and those lips puckered, my needy little cuddle truffles.



Boink Boink
Cupid to the Stars



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