Dudes night out tonight...............again.

What’s that? Dudes night out? Wow, really mixing it up here. Nothing like change.

My friends and I try to package and market the evening to each other, in hopes of psyching each other up for the inevitable, which is being slumped on a barstool and lamenting over our failure to commit. I’m in, let’s go.

But why lament? It’s dudes night out! It’s the pound some brews, chase some skirts, punch your friend, piss the bed kind of fun that we’re looking for. Let me tell you something. When you’re single, every night is dudes night out, and it gets old.........fast. I love my friends, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re losers. It’s easy to mask that for a while, you know, go out and celebrate the good times or bad, but what it’s become is a bunch of guys emotionally clinging to each other to perhaps fill the incredibly large void in their lives. The way of filling these voids is, of course, with Corona and late night pizza. Yummy. How long has this been going on, you ask?

You don’t even want to know.

Yep, I’m a loser. The void in my life is enormous. One thousand Coronas fed to me by one thousand naked women could never make me feel whole, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try this social scientific experiment You buying?

But what would make me feel complete? Shit, I don’t know. Maybe if the women fed me gin instead of Corona. I’ll try that. Man, do I have issues.

Some of you reading this may think that I need a relationship. You think that I need a girl to fill out my life. I’ve tried that. It sucks. Oh yeah, real exciting. Can’t wait to roll out of bed on Sunday to go check out a craft fair, or cash in the coupons at the Christmas tree shops. Can’t wait to stare at the same person for years and realize my youth is gone and I’ve ruined my life. Can’t wait.......Jesus, I should cut this out. This is a comedy column, after all.

Well, maybe I just haven’t met the right girl yet. Hmmm, the singles pool must be full of 25 year old hot women who love Iron Maiden, sleeping in, and Internet porn. I’ll bet that there’s a ton of women like that. Right. I hereby declare that I am officially doomed.

I’ve never met my female equal, I doubt that she exists. If she does, then she would probably be at the same bar I’m at. And if I did meet her, I’d probably loathe her. I’m the most irritating prick I know, on a good day.

Oh well, there isn’t much I can do about it. I just gotta be me. And at this moment I’m a little sick of it. I’ll call up my friends, and we’ll meet at the bar to discuss this further. See you there.