Why does a conversation like this suddenly remind me of that autistic movie "The Family Man"? Remember? The movie that was so horrible that it could shut down the olfactory functions in your body? Yeah, that big pile of shit. I would rather have watched the one movie about how the two crazy homosexual scientists who rampantly have sex in order to create a genetically-altered "shit baby", but I don't have the money to make that movie just yet...Now, for those of you that remain in benighted times, "The Family Man" is a contemporary reversal of "It's a Wonderful Life". The main character is a big-time Wall Street guy with a nice edition of life (i.e., the cool job, the cars, the hot chicks, the big pile of cash), and then he "magically" wakes up one day as a family man who apparently never learned the lesson of birth control since he's practically swimming in kids. How did this "magic" happen? Thank the powerful imagination of a coke-snorting sell-out of a scriptwriter in downtown L.A. Yes, in the movie, Cage's wealth, power, and fun job are gone, but he still has his family. Sniff, sniff. Wait, let me go get some salt and rub it in my eyes...Ahhhh, good, now we have some tears to make that "sniff, sniff" so much more authentic. As I was saying...now, the question is "Do I have anything against families or romantic relationships?" When a family brings their little bastard kids into my movie theater and ruin the $10 which I just spent? Yes. When they bring their crying babies onto my plane (and, yes, I want to test the laws of gravity by chucking those little bastards out the window)? Yes. When it's presented as a concept? No. I don't have a problem with that. When I have to violate my principles of a relationship in order to attain either? Let's see...if I took my two middle fingers, rammed them into your eye sockets, and then invented the "Ass-Cam" by shoving your eyeballs up your ass, would that clearly be understood as meaning "no"?

To me, it's plain and simple : people should have relationships with one another in order to benefit from them. In the company of another that you care about, you should only experience the things that matter : a lunch where you reminisce about the last great episodes of Upright Citizens Brigade, a movie after which you can express admiration and/or condemnation to each other, or a sincere talk concerning the lack of romance in your life. For me, it's especially important that my friends be people for whom I have a great deal of respect. Of course, I'm talking about...wait a second...make sure that nobody is around...yeah, check that cabinet over there...there might a midget listening to us, like that creepy little bastard from Fantasy Island...nobody there? Good. Okay, here it is. Standards. Oh, fuck...I said it! Don't tell anybody, okay? I could get in big trouble if someone found out...all right, here's ten bucks to keep your mouth shut...you extorting asshole...

Of course, if you're someone who happens to have standards (like me), you will eventually learn something which erudition could never prepare you for : having standards can seriously fucking suck at times. Being a man and having these standards, I'd have to say that my roster of friends only covers part of the chalkboard...but, when you apply these standards to the mere idea of romantic interests, there's no need to even pick up the chalk. In fact, you might as well throw it out the fucking window...And, yet, though this might be a cause for depression at times, I'm still happy with my decision. In the end, I have kept the "me" intact. Yes, much like Cage's character, a life like mine may seem "cold" and "incomplete", but one would only think that if there were a gnawing need for a "significant" other. In my case, I have no such need, and I'm happy without any romantic complement to my life. Unfortunately, though, most people can't accept that premise; in fact, they might even start watching you, waiting for the day when you finally "snap" and start dry-humping all of the lawnmowers in your neighborhood.

According to them, my real problem is that I just can't "let go". For example, if a woman for whom I had no respect did happen to give me a blowjob, it wouldn't matter how good she was at it : I would eventually look down and think "There you are, with your big stupid face". And, yes, I would grimace at the thought of her stupidity, even if she's looking straight at me with my cock in her mouth. Is this a problem? I don't think so...especially since she'd just mistake my face for one being intensely happy...All jokes aside, I have never mastered the essential "martial art" move of most men, in which I can conceptually split the vagina from the girl with one precise sweep of my mind. More importantly, though, I never want to learn that move. As "Tears for Fears" once said "...these are the things that I can do without". Of course, they probably never saw a girl naked because they were gay...but that's neither here nor there...

No, I don't think that the problem is with me. Instead, I think that the problem with most people is that there is a general misconception of the value attained by a relationship. Many people would say that the benefits of their particular romance outweigh their costs...but why should it cost anything, beyond a few negligible pennies? (For those of you who are thinking about your expensive escort services, I was speaking metaphorically). Why should a relationship "cost" anything at all? As a man, I can bring you a good example :

Hot Girl : Hey, I have a joke : what did the carrot say to the lettuce? Don't lose your head.

Now, most guys will laugh at this, especially if their girlfriend is the one who said it. Now, let's change the scenario a bit :

Regular Guy : Hey, I have a joke : what did the carrot say to the lettuce? Don't...