Sweetest Day is Saturday, and it’s time for me to celebrate it the only way I know how — jauntily poking fun at girls’ habits. (I can sense all the feminists quietly stroking their rifles, waiting for me to say something offensive during — of all times — Domestic Violence Awareness Month.)

Menfolk with girlfriends are probably in tune to the following stereotype: the bulk majority of females sincerely believe that they aren’t pretty. It’s a fact of life. In fact, only two percent of women consider themselves beautiful. (I don’t know from where I conjured this statistic, but I think I heard it somewhere and it’s kind of believable.)

They say society puts too much pressure on our women to be blonde, skinny and possessing big … elbows. It doesn’t help much when any girl who loves the show “Friends” (which now that I think about it, is the definition of a girl) aspires to be as skinny as Jennifer Aniston, whose hair comprises roughly 68 percent of her total body weight, not counting her … elbows.

Boyfriends don’t help much either. When we look deeply into our lover’s eyes and tell them they are beautiful, they don’t buy it. They will fervently disagree, cover their face and say “No I’m not! I’m hideous! Don’t look at me!”

Shame on us.

I contend that society is not to blame for unrealistic goals for women’s beauty — it’s those whipped boyfriends who think they’re the most gorgeous woman on the face of the planet. Mathematically speaking, all but one of those boys are incorrect.

One industry is actually helping women feel better about themselves — the automotive industry.

While Hollywood is busy churning out artificial supermodels and bombshell actresses, auto makers are trying to comfort the plain Janes of the world by making the ugliest cars possible.

Case in point: the Pontiac Aztek, heralded by Pontiac as a really cool car, is heralded by me as a sorry excuse to make a dumpy looking vehicle. To top it off, Pontiac gave it a model name that’s super-cool because it’s spelled differently (in other words, misspelled).

Case in point, part deux: the Honda Element. Honda’s Web site contends it could be “the most functional vehicle on the road today.” I’m not here to argue the practicality of the Honda Element, but everyone knows practical tools (such as Scott Stapp) aren’t pleasing to the eye.

(Bad joke time-out: If a Honda Element gets struck by lightning, does it become a Saturn Ion?)

Try this: go to a car dealership and go up to a Honda Element. Ignore the boxiness of the SUV and look right into its headlights and whisper, “You are the most beautiful car in the world.” See if it backs up and flaps its windshield wipers back and forth, screaming, “No I’m not! I’m hideous!” (Then again, maybe that won’t happen unless the car is a relative of Knight Rider.)

Carl Jung was almost right. There is a collective unconscious, but it’s not among all humans — it’s just between women and cars. That’s why girls get jealous when guys spend all their time working on their car. It’s like cheating. That’s why you have to treat her right on Sweetest Day … well, that and because Hallmark will go bankrupt and baby Jesus will cry if you don’t buy something for this special corporate holiday.

If you buy your girlfriend flowers, she’ll love them because they’re beautiful, but then the self-consciousness will kick in. “These flowers are beautiful, unlike me,” 98 percent of womanhood will think to themselves. Do you want your best girl feeling bad about herself? Good gravy, they’re already antsy enough about their … elbows.

This Sweetest Day, buy your sweetie an ugly car. She’ll love it because girls love shiny things. (Feminists are now loading their guns.) When she drives around campus in a Pontiac Aztek, she’ll feel like the most glamorous babe in BG, at least comparatively.

Matt drives a Grand Prix, so comparatively he is ugly. Console him at [email protected].