Valentine’s VD

There are few things in this world more inexplicable than love. It’s why there is a thriving romance novel industry out there. But what is slightly more… erm, plicable is cupid.

Cupid’s depiction as the son of Aphrodite or a fat baby angel or whatever is close to the truth, but still very…cleansed of the truth. You see, Aphrodite (which is actually a race, not just one being) chose mates at random and one pairing resulted in a rather disgusting and quite viral outbreak of STD.

Yes, that is cupid. A virulent strain of pubis cherubis. It feeds on dopamine and serotonin, chemicals widely associated with the feeling of love, and in order to get this fix, it secretes oxytocin in conjunction with a mild narcotic to create the false feeling of attachment between victims. Not quite an arrow, I know, but no less lethal. (“Falling head over heels” was an actual affliction that was caused by outbreaks of cupid.)

You might be curious as to how I came across this information. Or you might be wondering if you’re currently infected (take three shots of vodka and one shot of vodka in the presumed infected area, problem solved). Well, I’m ashamed to admit that for a brief time, I was infected. It was really a problem of close quarters and one very abnormal case of devil worship. (Not me. Let’s just say that someone took their goth phase to an extreme.) Well, soon the whole apartment complex was infected. Dangerous stuff.

The immediate effects were innocent enough at first. Hands brushed legs, eyes lingered longingly and there were a few poems composed. But things escalated quickly with poems turning to Nine Inch Nails’ “Closer,” a physical contact would result in bite marks and worse. I still have a scar on my elbow from a – you know what? Nevermind. Suffice to say that things got out of control.

There were at least three unexpected pregnancies (ending a couple high school careers and one marriage) one severe accident (one cupid sufferer had been… under other influences than just cupid and jumped from a building assuming he could fly. He only broke one leg and three ribs.) and one nearly fatal beating (let’s just say that when someone’s significant other goes by a moniker associated with last rites, discretion should be the best part of valor.)

After this outbreak, the apartment complex was shut down and the former occupants, presumably still infected went their separate ways. Sadly, the mundane world does not know how to deal with outbreaks of cupid and this one spread to another area of the state where a new strain of hepatitis was discovered. The two incidents are not unrelated.

So, all I have to say on the matter is: please be careful this Valentine’s Day. You could end up with an outbreak of cupid. And that never ends well.