Blow The Candles Out....Make A Wish....And Don't Fuck It Up This Time

      Something has been troubling me, Tender Reader. Why do people say "grow a pair" when they want someone to toughen up. Do they know nothing of male genitalia? It is quite sensitive. If you want someone to toughen up, you should say grow a vagina....because those things can take a pounding. Also, why do guys think just because they took you on a date, and paid for dinner, that the woman owes them something? Just because you took her to see some shitty movie she didn't want to watch, and paid for her value meal at Long John Silver's, doesn't mean she isn't walking out of your mother's basement un-fucked. Try being a gentleman every once in a while. Make her laugh. Make her feel pretty. Listen to her. It will get you a lot farther than thirty dollars worth of fried fish and Sylvester Stallone.

      If I am being honest, what is really troubling me is the approach of my thirtieth birthday. Not the bullshit thoughts of not being in my twenties anymore. I could care less about that. I pretty much drank and fucked that decade away anyway. I just never saw myself single with no kids by the time I hit thirty. Shouldn't there be more to life than thinking The Hangover was overrated and jerking off with tears in my eyes? Let us hope so. On a side-note, Zach Galifianakis is in no shape or form a good actor. Stop sucking his dick, America. The credits should always just say Zach Galifianakis as Himself. But, really. Who dreams of being single with no kids when they are a 15-year-old? I certainly didn't. I also didn't dream of having a knife waved in my face and having to wash my one plate before I could eat my next meal. Life doesn't work out the way you plan it. Ever.

      If the dreams of this 15-year-old would have worked out, Jennifer Love-Hewitt would be my wife. We would have two kids, one of which would most certainly be autistic, based simply on her acting skills. I mean, really, we all saw "Can't Hardly Wait." I rest my case. I just feel sorry for our first fantasy-autism-baby. Poor thing, sitting there with a mouth full of crayons and still helping our "normal" kid with his/her math homework. Thank you Rain Man Baby. Daddy is touched by your kindness.

      On a serious note, I thought for sure that by thirty, I would have held a baby in my arms and looked down at my own child. It just didn't happen for me. I accept that. That is why this is the DEATH and not the MISADVENTURES of Captain Save-A-Ho. We must all hold out hope that something amazing is coming our way; because without hope, what is there? Hope is what makes us wake up in the morning and brush our teeth, pull our pants up, and go back to that shitty job we have hated for the last decade. I think that hope and love are the only two emotions that make a life worth living. Until next time, Tender Reader.

1 comment:

  1. Really too bad about the Jennifer Love-Hewitt thing not working out as I could probably be sitting on a beach somewhere and never having to work again. Good blog, Matthew. I am woman and I always enjoy the more sensitive side of you.