[Ed. Note: Not really from Rob Ford. From Monica. Don’t sue us, Rob Ford]
Hey Toronto, hey. It’s me, your man Robbie. Your MAYOR-MAN, as I keep reminding Renata. She will not call me that. Women, eh?
As we all know, I’m just a regular guy. Regular, normal, down to earth. I love football, sweating and swearing in public, and running large North American cities into the ground. You know what else I love? LOVE. I’m a sensual man, and inside my (frankly impressive) bulk—like way, way in there—is a throbbing, beating heart that yearns to express its romantic side. So with the big V-day comin’ up (a cute nickname I invented for Valentines day cuz of how V also stands for vagina, victory and vodka) I’ve been busy getting prepared. And when, on February 14th, I leave a pile of fresh, crisp bills on the kitchen table without a note or eye contact, I’ll know the message is clear: “Luv u, babe. Luv us.”
But hey, we’re not all full geniuses like me. Maybe you can’t say it with a stack of twenties. While I consider “coherent sentences” merely a conspiracy on the part of the liberal media, maybe there’s a poem in you that has to get out. And if so, it should probably get out on my face, via these specially-designed Rob Ford Valentine’s Cards. Because what says romance like a broken man clinging desperately to the last shreds of his power and relevance?
Give her one of these and you’ll have more than enough to eat at home, IF you know what I’m saying, and you do. Robbie Baby ain’t subtle. Peace out, pussies!
You can order Rob Ford Valentines and other Toronto-inspired artwork at scotty2naughty.com.