Every now and then I’m reminded that I don’t have the suckiest life in existence, and there are worst things in this world than being a virginal weenie tot who can’t get a girl to pay attention to him for more than .25 seconds.

The latest reminder came when a friend of mine told me about an old buddy of his who was currently going through a rough patch. Apparently the dude was a few years younger than me, had a wife in her late twenties and a 12 month old kid. In her unmitigated brilliance, the wife decided that a 45 year old hairy ape of a man (unemployed by the way) was somehow more appealing to her than a stable, loyal husband, so she ups and runs away with him.

Naturally, the husband’s a little upset about this. He works in a leadership position at a church, and eventually confided in his senior pastor about his embarrassing marital problem. The pastor (along with the church) did what any loving, caring, modern day Christian church would do when presented with a brother in Christ who was clearly in a lot of pain and grief.

They fired him.

After all, having somebody wailing in the pews like that is just bad publicity for the church, which no doubt needed to maintain its seeker sensitive image of sunshine and happiness and lollipop happy dappy joy joy joyness, lest they should start to lose members (and their tithes.)

It’s nothing personal you know, just business.

By the time my friend caught up with him he was drowning his sorrows in a pool of alcohol at some local bar.

Ahhhh, women and churches. Two of the greatest evils to ever bedevil the days of man. Yeah yeah, I know I’m painting with a widey ass brush there, but dammit, it’s what I do, sugar bear.

On a somewhat more sobering note though, there’s a verse in Scripture I keep getting reminded of whenever I ponder over the misery of my nonexistent dating life (and the plight of the churches today):

“Because iniquity shall abound, the love of many will wax cold.” - Matthew 24:12

Even though I’ve been fixated on the appalling lack of charity women have demonstrated towards me (except the beloved readers of my blog, how I wubs you all), this a disease I think that has really permeated all of society, especially in places where the notion and practice of true love should have been most evident (like say, a church.)

It also explains why I’ve always believed the odds of finding my honey bunny snuggly snookum wugs wouldn’t notably improve if I started attending church again. They are just as cold within as they are without, so really, what would be the point? Hugging a crate full of frozen fish would give me more warmth than these churches do.

Meh, that’s a topic for another day though. In the meantime, suffice it to say, as much as I might express bitterness and vile acidic venom towards all things Christian and womenly, once you dig past that rough, wounded exterior of mine, you’ll find I really am… all about love, baby.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, yeaaaah….

You’re my first, the last, my everything,

My kind of wonderful, that’s what you are!

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You know, it never fails that as soon as I join a dating site, I start getting deluged with “winks” and “nudges” from women (at least I think they’re women) who look like they could be the very reason why we have a worldwide food shortage.

Usually I respond in a polite manner, but now that the the evilness of women have pretty much stamped out whatever remaining charity I used to have, I kinda lost patience for this crap now.

The latest one to send me a wink hails from Michigan, employed under the prestigious title of a cashier, and who writes, “I define myself ultimately as a fun-loving girl who has a big heart.”

Yep, not to mention a Godzilla sized body to go with it.

I was in a good mood though, so I decided to write her a simple, polite note declining interest:

Dear Ugly All Day,

I’m sorry, you must have confused me for a blind man. I took a look at your photo but all I could see was a beached whale. Oh, that was you? Well then, here’s a little advice: if elevators can only go down when you step into one, that might be an indicator that you really shouldn’t upload pictures of yourself that will either induce violent seizures or cause permanent blindness. There are just some things in life we should never look directly at: one being the sun, and two being any photo that has you in it.

I’m thrilled to see though that at the tender age of 24, you’ve managed to work your way up from being a cashier to being… uh… a cashier. No doubt you intend to use the skills you’ve learned from working the cash machine to someday count your future husband’s money. Sadly though, I will not be that guy. For one thing, I would prefer that the experience of embracing the girl of my dreams not be equivalent to trying to hug a wrecking ball, but that’s just me.

So good luck to you, and who knows, maybe someday you’ll find a guy who doesn’t mind being with someone who’s able to set off tornadoes in the Midwest just by sneezing.

Much Love,

Lincoln

I had the cursor on the “Send” button, but just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Still too much of a nice guy I guess, but don’t worry, as women continue to piss me right the hell off with their cold hearted antics, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before I become evil incarnate.

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While I was ferociously at work here at my desk (surfing a few dating sites), I happened to look up and saw the Commissioner walking by with the Chief of Police.

OH SH__

I quickly closed my browser window and started shuffling papers to look busy. The Chief of Police saw me, his eyes wide, probably because I was the last person on earth he wanted to see, especially with the Commish there standing next to him. They greeted my coworker, then the Chief quickly tried to usher the Commish out before I could get a chance to say hello.

Too late.

“Heeeeeey Commissioner, pleased to meet you!” We shook hands. He happened to notice my 8×10 frame of a big question mark that was sitting on my desk, and asked me what it was.

“Oh, that’s the girl of my dreams.”

And we all laughed.

“Hold on, I have a picture of my ex in my wallet.” I took it out and showed them:

And we all laughed.

“By the way, can I have a raise? I really need the money.”

And we all laughed.

Actually I didn’t think it was THAT funny, but oh well. The conversation ended just as quickly as it started, with the Chief letting out a huge sigh of relief as they left our section. Dweeb.

If you’re curious in learning why Chiefie Weenie doesn’t like me very much, there’s a whole back story on that you can read up on in case you have nothing else to do, which you probably don’t.

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I’m surrounded by idiots at my job, and they’re really beginning to wear me out.

It’s not that have anything against them, it’s just that they’re… well… idiots.

I can’t even have a conversation about the weather without it somehow flying right over their heads as they give me one of those trademark blank stares that tell me they didn’t know what in the hell I just said.

But God forbid you have to work with them, and if you wanna know why I will swear to you that the following conversation is so close to the truth that just to repeat it here makes me want to cry all over again:

Me: “After you’re done with these papers, just place them in the bin here.”

Blank stare.

Me: “Um… just place them right in the bin here, you know, when you’re done?”

Blank stare.

At this point I have no choice but to make like I’m addressing a 4 year old:

Me: “Wheeeeeeeeen you are fiiiiinished with these paaaaaaaaaaaapers (pointing to papers), place them iiiiiiiiiin the biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin heeeeeeeeere. Dooooooo yoooooooou unnnnnnnderstaaaaand?”

Finally its like a little light goes on somewhere in their head and they nod vigorously with understanding. “OOOOOH, sure, no problem!”

Later when I go to sign out for the day I noticed the papers were never put in the bin.

……………………………………………

And honestly, I’ll just stand there looking at this empty bin for like 5 minutes, trying to understand what exactly it is I’ve done in my life that would make God hate me so much.

Sigh.

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