Ironic Heart Attacks.

This guy that VP Cheney shot had a heart attack of all things. What timing. I should think that a VP shooting a man trumps a POTUS getting a blow job. I should stop thinking that, though, because it is wrong to think that. Or so these guys with badges and sunglasses tell me.

I heard the creepy neighbor guy with the mail-order bride speak for the very first time the other day. He sounds like a hoity-toity white guy. He looks like trailer trash, but he speaks like he’s a stuffy Thurston W. Pennington or some shit like that. Or like when Dave Chappelle was Lil Jon and he had that Barbara Walters-type interview, and when he wasn’t saying “Yeah” or “Okay,” he sounded like a well-spoken rich white bastard. Quite the juxtaposition. Maybe the intellectual reasons for Bought Bride’s attraction to him becomes a little more clear?

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So, about this event you humans call Valentine’s Day…

I didn’t do anything special for anyone today. Everybody who matters knows I love them. I, in turn, received no special attention, because everybody to whom I matter knows that I know that they have strong, though just short of love, feelings for me, too. I have nothing against Valentine’s Day. There is nothing wrong with setting aside a day where you make it a point to let those you care about know that you love them. What’s wrong with that? Sometimes we take people and situations for granted, and if it takes marking a day on our calendars to shake us from our semi-narcissism, then I’m all for it.

Today’s not a day for single people to get down in the dumps about not having someone to share it with. It’s a good day for reflection, taking stock of those people who matter most to you. Who are the fringe friends, the good friends, the best friends? Yeah, it’d be great if we had someone to hang out with, make dinner for, get a gift from, complimented by and go down on, but just because we’re intimately alone doesn’t mean we’re alone in this world.

Something I noticed, too, about today involved my relationship with women. When I pursue and am rejected by them, the tagline will always be, “You’re such a nice guy.” When I pursue and date them, the tagline will always be, “You’re such an asshole.” While I choose to take both sentiments with a grain of salt, I note that the consistency of these rejoinders in their respective context can only mean the following:

• I am not enough of an asshole for the women who reject me.
• I am more of an asshole than my girlfriends could have possibly imagined.
  

That’s as far as my thoughts progressed, so I will have to meditate on these bullet points tomorrow over a crappy screenplay I’ll no doubt be reading.