Richard: "First off, I think it's good for the economy to have a president who's also a successful 'brand name.' Second, it's nice to have a president that people want to screw. We haven't seen that since Clinton. However, let's just say it, there are some rather disturbing racial implications here. Just who is the target audience for this product? And will they be a bit disappointed it doesn't come in 'black' and that it isn't a little...bigger."
Chip: "Okay, this satire is making me awfully uncomfortable on a day when I'm already nervous as hell about the K-State game, which I always refuse to watch. Today I plan to sit alone in a cornfield and meditate while eating cheap Valentine's chocolates. Can we talk about something else? Like maybe that riduculous 'cuddle party' at the Replay tonight?
Chip is right, hipsters, tonight's the night. Put on your comfiest PJ's (with footies!) and head down for the "Sonic Douche Cuddle Party." Sonic Douche, of course, is a "shadowy cabal of “musicians” [that] has been plaguing the Lawrence music scene for 10 years, and they’re resurfacing on Valentine’s Day for a triumphant reunion/pajama cuddle party... They’re planning an ultra-velvety night of romance and beef hearts for Valentine’s Day, with underwear and heavy petting strongly encouraged." (LJ-World).
Chip: "It's rare that I spot anyone at the Replay that I'd enjoy seeing in their underwear."
Richard: "Myself, I can think of at least two bartendresses I'd like to 'cuddle' with."
If the Replay sounds a little too "interactive" for you, the TapRoom takes it down a notch with "a recitation of St. Valentine's love poems, cheap chocolate and the usual soul-funk-disco-80s-hip-hop-booty-bass dance classics. Edible underwear, gross-tasting message hearts, and overpriced flowers will be on display." (LJ-World).
And if that's still too much, fliers at the Pig announce that they'll simply be playing albums by My Bloody Valentine and Magnetic Fields (presumably 69 Love Songs) all evening. Come sit in the dark and sing along to Stephen Merrit's bittersweet (and bitter) tales: "A melody is like a pretty girl / who cares if it's the dumbest in the world."