Cupid Is a Heel

Valentine's Day makes me feel nostalgic. Mostly I remember my pre-sexual celebrations in elementary school: decorated mailboxes (shoeboxes covered in glossy red and pink wrapping paper), homemade cards made out of construction paper, and those pink, heart-shaped mints with "Be Mine" written on them.

I also think (unsurprisingly) about wrestling--especially the faux-"innocent" posed wrestling shots ("wrestling" should probably be in quotes, as well) of cold-war-era erotica.

"Some Cupid kills with arrows," Shakespeare (the other Bard) wrote, in Much Ado About Nothing, "Some with traps." And some with inverted figure-four ankle locks.


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