-Valentine’s Day is a holiday – if you can even call it that – where couples are encouraged to rejoice in their relationships while single people secretly make fun of them.  I imagine some single chicks get depressed around this time of year, but for single guys, Valentine’s Day is like Columbus Day – it has no bearing on my life and I usually only find out about it the day before.  This year, however, Valentine’s Day does have some additional significance.  I just calculated that 23 of my 30 guy friends, or about 77%, either have very serious girlfriends, are engaged, or are married.  That means I’m part of a rapidly dying breed.  This week, as couples across the country celebrate their utter fucking lameness, I will instead be examining what it means to be male, twentysomething, and, well, free.  I hereby present to you my address on the State of the Single Guy.

-There’s one thing that I love more than anything else about being single.  And it’s not the freedom to hook up with whoever I want.  It’s much simpler than that.  Right now I just relish being able to fart at any moment.  I possess complete fart autonomy – “fartonomy” if you will.  When you have a girlfriend or a wife hanging around all the time, fartonomy is the first thing to go.  Frankly, that’s a level of sacrifice I’m not yet prepared to make.

-The truth is, though, being a single guy is a fucking job.  We have to work to hook up.  There’s a reason it’s called “giving head” – girls decide they’re either going to give it to us or not, and we have very little say in the matter.  That’s why single guys, as opposed to our betrothed counterparts, feel the need to go out so much.  If there’s a chance that some girl, somewhere, is considering giving someone head, I need to make sure I’m there to possibly receive it.

-One of the most frequent questions I get from my female readers is, “Why didn’t he call?”  Ladies, if you go out or hook up with a guy and then he never calls you, there’s really only a few possible reasons: 1) He was already seeing someone else and that relationship has since gotten more serious; 2) You’re not nearly as cute in person as you look on MySpace; 3) You didn’t fuck him; or 4) You did fuck him.  Yeah, I know those last two can be confusing.  I’d explain further, but I’ve already said too much.

-In my opinion, the Internet has gone from being a boon to the single guy to hampering us with information overload.  Do I really need to see 847 pictures of the same chick on her Facebook page?  And how is it possible that she’s standing sideways in every single one, cleverly obscuring her body?  It’s just too much.  I mean, the other day this girl gave me her parents’ address so I could pick her up there, and I immediately Zillowed it to find out how much the house was worth.  Knowing she grew up in a gourmet 4 bed/3 bath was interesting, though how I thought that knowledge was going to help me get head is still unclear.

-At the beginning of 2007, me and my buddy Brian (who’s already married), made a bet.  We input our four best friends who currently have serious girlfriends into a spreadsheet, and guessed the dates we each thought the four couples would get engaged.  Whoever is more accurate in the end, me or Brian, gets taken out to dinner by the other.  Wagering on the romantic relationships of our friends may seem absurd, perhaps even offensive.  But really, we could give a fuck.  Brian needs something to enliven his presumably monotonous, married-at-twenty-seven existence.  And as much as I’d like to win the bet and eat a boatload of sushi on Brian’s tab, a part of me hopes we’re both wrong and that at least one of my buddies stays single just a little while longer.  After all, it’s getting a bit lonely out there and sometimes I feel like I’m the only one farting.

-As always, here are some random things I’ve been ruminating about lately…

-Went to the dentist last week.  My co-pay was five bucks.  Parking cost seven bucks.  The irony, however, was free of charge.

-I had a very Hollywood experience a few weeks ago – I was driven in a golf cart on a movie lot.  (I wasn’t in a movie, I just had to get from one meeting to another on the same lot.)  It was still pretty cool.  Now all I have left to do is bang Kristin Cavallari and I can move back to New York.

-I was in South Beach late last year and got so drunk that I violently threw up directly onto the keypad of my BlackBerry Pearl, breaking it.  For a while, I was embarrassed to admit what happened, that is until I talked to my buddy Chi.  He locks his BlackBerry with a password so that no one can use it if he loses it.  Except last weekend he got so fucked up that he couldn’t remember his own password and proceeded to enter it incorrectly ten consecutive times – which automatically triggers the BlackBerry to erase all the data in its memory.  This is the same kid, you may remember, who in 2001 passed out drunk in the middle of a phone call and used all his minutes for the month in one night.  God bless him.

-I just want to make a quick retraction.  In Ruminations #99, I made a comment that “Grey’s Anatomy” was starting to suck.  But boy did they turn things around.  So I take it back.  Grey’s, you don’t suck anymore, and my apologies.

-Is it too harsh to say that I support the death penalty for people who smoke cigarettes?  The other day I was driving on Santa Monica Boulevard and the guy right in front of me had his hand hanging out the window holding a cigarette – and I could smell it in my own car even though I had my windows up.  Holy fucking shit!  I got so enraged I almost had to pull over to compose myself, but parking cost more than at my dentist’s office.

-Today marks four years since I got LASIK eye surgery, and it’s still the greatest investment I’ve ever made…ever.  There’s nothing like taking a girl home knowing I’ll actually be able to see where the fuck I’m going as I scamper silently out of her bedroom the next morning.

-And, finally, I would like to say that, for the most part, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being in a serious relationship, or even getting married, when you’re still in your twenties.  I’m just not even close to being ready.  And that’s because there’s one thing that I absolutely need to do before I get married – hook up with two girls at the same time.  I’m dead serious.  Ladies, if you’ve ever had a guy all of a sudden break up with you out of the blue, or get cold feet when you started talking about getting engaged, it’s for one reason – he was not ready to give up hope that he might one day have a threesome.  I’m not sure why guys hold on to that glimmer of hope.  We know how hard it is to get head in the first place, let alone get head twice…simultaneously.  It’s just something every guy dreams of I guess.  I’m realistic, though, and know I may never have that elusive threesome.  It’s unfortunate, but hey, at least that’s two less girls who won’t be left wondering why I never called.  Fuck me.

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