funny drunken rambling

I got way, way too drunk last night, which I'm really getting too old to do. I'll save that line of thought for another day, but the point is that when I got home, I wrote a little rant on one of the dating sites I use. Heh...the extremity of the self-confident, self-assured, and self-reliant sentiments owes only to the liquid courage that was flowing through my veins, greatly exagerating the reality of my native sentiments. I thought it was amusing enough to post again, though. It follows:

"You know, this is fucking ridiculous, this whole dating bullshit. The fact is that I like myself, and I'm pretty content to while away my few years on this piece of rock playing music, reading, writing, and doing whatever goddamn thing suits my fancy at the time. I've had some trouble finding a good match, and you what, I don't give a flying fuck.

I'm 26 years old...old enough to know that my youth is ephemeral at best...old enough to have accepted my own right to exist as a human being and as an american. I offer no apologies and equivocations for my existence, particularly not to the female sex. I'm a sensitive, kind, funny, educated, smart guy, who can play a pretty passible old-time banjo now and then, and if you don't want to be with me, y'all can go fuck yourselves rotten. I've chosen who I am, and I wouldn't for a second want to be anyone else.

To all the poor sad saps out there, male and female, who are yearning for some basic companionship, I say this: be happy to have the bed to yourself; remember that if you pay your own way, you have an inalienable right to do whatever you fucking well please; and never apologize for your singleness...because as nice as some good lovin can be, the awesome presence of existence does not depend for its glory upon your having a lover. Oh, and remember that masturbation works consistently and without complaint.