Valentine''s Day | Jerry Seinfeld

I hate Valentine's Day. I hate it because it makes me, you know, do stuff. And you already know how I feel about that.

The problem with Valentine's Day - aside from the fact that it comes around annually - is that it's sneaky. Or at least it allows my girlfriend to be sneaky. Each year, she tells me that she doesn't need anything, that so long as I get her a card, she's happy. Of course, that's not true. Ignoring the fact that when she says "get me a card," she really means "bring me two of everything and one helper monkey to carry it all," I'm also terrible at 1) actually picking out a suitable card and 2) writing a message that she'll find satisfactory on said card.

And don't think that I'm okay with the receiving end but not the giving. I'd be perfectly happy to adopt a no-gift policy on any and all holidays. A no-anything policy, really. My perfect Valentine's Day would include as little movement - and this will shock you - from my couch as possible.

But here's the thing: I'm not a monster. I'm not numb to the fact that I come up woefully short each year in the Valentine's Day department. Last year, even though we had agreed to keep things simple, my girlfriend got me tickets to see Jerry Seinfeld. She's the best. Which, apparently, makes me the worst; I had planned to send her a very thoughtful e-card, but I couldn't figure out the process because I'm computer illiterate. I tried explaining to her how technology is love's archenemy - using a very romantic Joker-to-Batman analogy - but that didn't go over so hot.

So this year, I have two different Valentine's Day plans. All I have to do is pick one and execute it. And since I don't want any men out there who might be reading this to disappoint their girls, either, I freely offer my ideas to the masses.