You’ll know them when you see them. Those department store employees, with their ear-to-ear grins, talking about the finer points of a ceramic cherub tea set or imported sterling silver jewelry. So you’re saying it’s only $42 for a stuffed gorilla that sings “Bad to the Bone?” Sign me up. I’ll take seven.

The whole concept of Valentine’s Day is a disturbing pedo-fantasy: A fat, naked baby who flies around shooting people with arrows. It’s like a bunch of North American Man/Boy Love Association members were sitting around a chalkboard and screaming out ideas for a holiday. If you thought the Easter Bunny, Boo Berry or Billy the Anorexic Goat were worse mascots, you would be wrong. Fat babies are always bad – just watch any episode of “Maury.”

Valentine’s Day is the one holiday in which a whole ecosystem of cheaply-made singing animals come out of hiding from their Indonesian sweatshops. As they lie in wait, the animals, most likely made out of wood glue and leftover domestic house cat, hone their Elvis covers and awkward dance moves. I like to compare this to the movie Gremlins, only much, much scarier.

Then, there’s the food. There are two types of traditional Valentine’s Day food: chocolate-covered corn syrup paste and lard-flavored sugar packets. Somewhere in between lies the “Peep.” The Peep was an invention by Satan to rot the teeth out of school children and put the elderly into deadly sugar comas. On all fronts, the Peep has succeeded as a granulated treat of destruction. There’s always chocolate, as well. A box of chocolates is that heart-warming gesture that says “Here – I hope you die of diabetes, fatty.”

Last I looked, flowers have become invaluable to the U.S. economy, but within reason – a vase of flowers at your local flower shop only costs $45, the shoes you’re wearing and three fingers from your right hand. Now that’s a steal.

The rose is the most lucrative flower of the holiday. Apparently the rose has been put on the endangered species list, like the Bengal tiger. What you may not know is that the people at Flowerama quite possibly had to sail to a lost island off the coast of Thailand and fight off deadly natives who ride giant tarantulas saddleback. Then, only after sacrificing the village shaman’s heart were they allowed to enter the temple where the roses are kept. This, my friends, is why they must charge 45 bucks for 12 roses – or so I want to believe.

If you’re not like me – sleeping alone in a coffin – chances are your significant other will want to participate in a tradition called a “money siphoning,” better known in laymen’s terms as a “date.” Here, you and your date will make an agreement for you to get robbed – in a clever way, of course. Instead of being held at gunpoint or by the ankles like traditional thieves, the date will spend your money on dinner at the Sizzler and tickets to “Big Momma’s House 2.”

In the future, I envision a Valentine’s Day in which candy and card makers converge to form one super company. Then, after an elaborate robotics program goes haywire, Hershey-Hallmark 1000s will devastate cities with their infrared vision and laser-guided arm cannons, murdering millions of women and children. There is a distinct possibility, however, that I’ve been watching too much Terminator 2.

– Rob Lombardi is a sophomore in pre-advertising. He is a Daily Pulse Editor. Believe it or not, he actually has a girlfriend.