Fuck you, Russ.

Be my Valentine? You want me to be your Valentine? Well you know what Sugarless Russell Stover Valentine's Chocolate? I'd rather snuggle a hedgehog before I be your valentine. Yeah, I said it. What is it exactly that gets you off, Russ? May I call you Russ? Well I damn well will. What makes your little soulless red cardboard heart tick? Is it the fact that you tricked me into thinking you were really delicious chocolate? Was it because you sat taunting me and my singledom in Walgreens a full five weeks before the fateful day? Well Russ, this time you have gone TOO FAR. How dare you not only flaunt my relationship status around town like a sad Facebook update but also dare to take away my sugar? What is this strawberry bubblegum chewy piece of crap? All I wanted to do was sit on my couch and eat little nuggets of joy. Instead, you steamrolled my self-esteem like a Zamboni. My personal life is already in disarray and I couldn't even get the box of soul-filling candy right. You are like that guy I hooked up with last weekend. You were cute. You were a good kisser. You liked Obama. But then you went and didn't call. That's who you are, Russ. You're the asshole that didn't call. So appealing on the outside. Full of empty promises on the inside. Well you know what, Russ? I'm through with you. I hope you got what you wanted out of this. Asshole.