"What?" you say, "ANOTHER entry on the same damn day?"
"Screw you," I answer. "It was just after midnight when I did the last one so now it is, for all intents and purposes, a new day."
Last night, shortly before turning 26 and leaving the last shreds of my youth behind me, I hung out with the daughter of my parents' friends. All went OK, I guess. She was a nice chick although I am a bit perturbed at myself about my inability to take my eyes away from her rather nasty overbite. Nevertheless, all went well. We saw Three Kings, which was a very peculiar movie about which I have yet to form a solid opinion.
When I was telling my Internet 'Ho about it, she asked if I was giving her any signals to hook up. I immediately disabused her of that notion, pointing out that I tried really hard not to create any romantic undertones. Then I thought, what kind of chick WOULD I create romantic undertones with?
Sure, there are the hot, eye candy ho's, but they're often backstabbers with no sense of morals. Then there are the really ugly big fat mutant broads who are so desperate for any kind of companionship that they'll latch on to ANYTHING with a death grip. THEN there are the "fun", nutty chicks who will no doubt turn bisexual and start shooting up as soon as I get attached. THEN there are the average, middle-of-the-road chicks who have all of the problems of the other three, except not as intense. Then we have the added problem of my advanced age, at which any even remotely normal chick has been long taken and is probably married. I know virtually all of the cute chicks where I work with are.
But then, why should I bother? I thought about what I would do if some totally hot, interesting, smart, easy, psychosis-free chick actually WANTED me. I'd probably freak out. I think that after 26 years of usually not scoring, having chicks got nuts with orgasm-induced psychoses (THAT must be it!), and seeing untold numbers of my friends playing emotional Twister, losing, and jumping right back into the game, I've gained a healthy respect for living life on my own. I've also gotten pretty good at punching my way into heaven.
Nope, I have too much fun hangin' out on my own, working on my webpage, and screwing around. A chick would doubtless eat severely into my time like acid through steel wool. Besides, for as much as my Internet 'Ho calls me and bugs, me, I might as well have a girlfriend. Except, of course, I'm still not scoring.
Still, it would be fun to bang one more time before I die, but it'll be like the first friggin' time again.
