Happy Valentine's Day

So, I love my wife, and it's Valentine's Day. And I thought, man, what should I post? It's very hard to know. I mean I could have serenaded her, but all the songs I know are musicals, and Amanda doesn't like them. I could write a poem? Sometimes that can turn out bad. And my poems can have a mixed message in them, I'm afraid...

Maybe I could enlist the help of the Lord of the Underworld?

No... no, that's a really bad idea.


Amanda said...

That is the most awesome present ever. <3

Jason Gignac said...

Thanks :D Glad Ms Debye took you out for Ice Cream for a while... :D

Amanda said...

And you thought I might not like it!! Pshaw!

Jeanne said...

"sprinkled brimstone in your hair" is an absolutely inspired lyric, Death!

Kailana said...

I am with Jeanne. lol Very entertaining and creative gift, though. :)

Jason Gignac said...

Amanda - WEll, I HAVE made mistakes before... :D

Ms JEanne - Death is blushing, now. Actually, had lyrics for two full verses of 'Dying is a Girl's Best Friend' as well, but I cut liberally, so as not to bore you all.

Ms Kailana - What I lack in talent, I try to make up for in exuberance :P

Erin said...

Aww, that's so clever and sweet! Either Death should make (and lose) more bets, or he should start a spin-off show rewriting and singing songs to suit his taste. Or perhaps the Death and Baby Death Book Hour should occasionally feature literary songs?

Trish said...

Are you saying "Dying is a girl's best friend"? Ha!!

What a erm sweet way to say Happy Valentines. ;)

Anonymous said...

Nice ooo oooo oooo oooo's. Much better than Whitney, imo.

And am I the only one interested in the missing lyrics to Dying is a Girl's Best Friend?

Jason Gignac said...

Ms Erin - Actually we used to include musical numbers somewhat regularly - Amanda was particularly fond of Death's rendition of 'Christmas is Coming, the Deathroll's Getting Fat' (I think that was it?).

Ms Trish and Ms Jill:

"The French like arms of yielding flesh,
And blood that is not cool,
But a prefer formaldehyde,
And flybown, fleshless ghouls.

A gangrenous hand can be quite detrimental,
But dying is a girl's best friend.
It might come unplanned with no time for repentals,
Buy you won't need any cash
Or have to worry about getting fat.
Skin grows cold, as your flesh grows mold,
Sure we all lost some charm in the end,
But plauge, knife, or pistol,
Or nuclear missle,
Dying is a girl's best friend.

...Hanging Tree!
Torn by a wild horse!
Talk to me Dante Alligheri, tell me all about it!

There may come a time when you need a mortician,
But dying is a girl's best friend,
There may come a round of someone's ammunition: though it stings when it strikes, Afterwards is afterlife!
Love may seem grand, when you've flesh on your hands,
But those mean dissapear in the end:
As flesh, with their spouses, for worms and for mouses -
So, Dying is a girl's best friend!