Dylan Didn't Remember What Today Was Until 10:13 PM
Happy Valentine's Day, all.
Or "Singles Awareness Day" as many of my [less than romantically involved] acquaintances refer to it.
I come to you today not to profess my disdain and abhorrence of said holiday, due to my acutely single nature, but to rather highlight the benefits of such a situation.
While you may lament being alone, sex starved, and lacking any substance in your life, look at the bright side.
Those poor suckers who are tied down are damn near forced to spend gratuitous amounts of money.
Unless they're cheap bastards. In which case, they'll be joining our cause shortly.
Furthermore, while the lovebirds are out and about, clogging the expensive restaurants and movie theaters and exotic, romantic locales with their endless displays of public affection and that whole "love" crap, the rest of the world is you oyster [ironic that oysters are aphrodisiacs]: Your wait in line at KFC will most likely be reduced to half, as well as at any other place you would only bring a date if you both were conceived, born, and raised in a trailer park public swimming pool.
And possibly the most important effect Valentine's Day, and the depression it brings, has on the lives of the habitually single: it makes suicide a much more socially acceptable option.
But really, I've been alone for 19 Valentine's Days now, and I have yet all I see around me are either blissfully happy couples [though more often than not it's just temporary] or depressingly....well...depressed single people. So I say unto thee, the masses: be happy in your freedom. Savor the moments of quiet solitude you will long for when your shrew of a wife and seven spoiled [and probably Catholic] children refuse to give you a moment of respite.
Otherwise, you'll probably end up killing people. Probably with a shotgun. In Alabama. And I'll read about you in the paper. And think to myself, "I predicted this precise occurrence exactly 24 years ago." And then I'll sell all my other prophecies, and make millions. So thank you, depressed future homicidal maniac: you will make me rich.
~JOE
Or "Singles Awareness Day" as many of my [less than romantically involved] acquaintances refer to it.
I come to you today not to profess my disdain and abhorrence of said holiday, due to my acutely single nature, but to rather highlight the benefits of such a situation.
While you may lament being alone, sex starved, and lacking any substance in your life, look at the bright side.
Those poor suckers who are tied down are damn near forced to spend gratuitous amounts of money.
Unless they're cheap bastards. In which case, they'll be joining our cause shortly.
Furthermore, while the lovebirds are out and about, clogging the expensive restaurants and movie theaters and exotic, romantic locales with their endless displays of public affection and that whole "love" crap, the rest of the world is you oyster [ironic that oysters are aphrodisiacs]: Your wait in line at KFC will most likely be reduced to half, as well as at any other place you would only bring a date if you both were conceived, born, and raised in a trailer park public swimming pool.
And possibly the most important effect Valentine's Day, and the depression it brings, has on the lives of the habitually single: it makes suicide a much more socially acceptable option.
But really, I've been alone for 19 Valentine's Days now, and I have yet all I see around me are either blissfully happy couples [though more often than not it's just temporary] or depressingly....well...depressed single people. So I say unto thee, the masses: be happy in your freedom. Savor the moments of quiet solitude you will long for when your shrew of a wife and seven spoiled [and probably Catholic] children refuse to give you a moment of respite.
Otherwise, you'll probably end up killing people. Probably with a shotgun. In Alabama. And I'll read about you in the paper. And think to myself, "I predicted this precise occurrence exactly 24 years ago." And then I'll sell all my other prophecies, and make millions. So thank you, depressed future homicidal maniac: you will make me rich.
~JOE