How to tell your significant other you love them after you've tossed their sister's salad...

Valentine’s Day is as good a time as any to ask the important questions. Like, "If I spend eighty dollars on a teddy bear bigger than me, will she know I love her?" Or, "If I plan a romantic dinner with all the trimmings—gourmet meal, red wine, candles, incense, roses, etc., will that make up for the time I ate her sister’s asshole out on the kitchen counter?"


Sometimes the questions don’t even need to be asked. Sometimes people are forthcoming, not often, but sometimes, and it saves us a lot of trouble. The following quote is one such example:


"If we weren’t married, I’d totally have sex with him."—Bernadette Pauley, on regarding husband Al Pauley


While some of us are lonely drunkards who have nobody but the bottle to turn to on this tormenting holiday, others have lots of people. Like Britney Spears. We here at Kotori love Britney, we feel bad for her and wish that so much pressure wasn’t placed on celebrities. We hope she is doing better, but…we somehow doubt it. Still Britney does have people who love her and, as always, they are in the picture for this Valentine’s Day.

One example is Paris Hilton who gave Britney the gift of greasy carbs this year by introducing her to grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches. Yum Yum! That’s the fast track to her worldwide comeback tour, isn’t it? Nothing says Love like fatty foods.


It’s been a weird year so far and it’s all leading up to Cupid’s Little Orgy.


Will.I.am (of the Black Eyed Peas) is in the studio for Michael Jackson’s big come back while black opportunist Reverend Al Sharpton is clawing at the lapel of Democratic hopeful Barack Obama. This sets a new precedent (or new low) for Afro-American society: It don’t matter how perverse, how criminal or how white you are! If you’ve got even an ounce of black in you then you’re my nigga. It’s the OJ Trial all over again. Whoop! Whoop!


Finally, and I know this has nothing to do with Valentine’s—but everything to do with irony—G-Unit cohort Prodigy receives news from his doctors that he may end up being the first gangsta rapper to need a hip replacement. For years, I’ve bitched about how mainstream hip hop is all about guns, fancy rims and bitches. I think I might eat my words if every time I turn on Hot 97 every MC is slingin’ rhymes about glaucoma, sickle cell anemia and catheters.


You gotta love this fucked up universe. It’s like Bob Freville said, "Love is a train wreck whose wheels have come off as it collides with a shortbus."

 I LOVE YOU ALL—Angus T. Wilkinson, Intrepid Pop Culture Correspondent To read my blog or eat my boogers visit myspace.com/angustwilkinson
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