-I remember first learning about genetics in junior high science class. It always amazed me that something so simple – being XX instead of XY – was the difference between a woman and a man. As an adult, though, I’ve come to realize just how big an impact that pesky second chromosome has. Men and women are biologically hard-wired to see the world completely differently. Sometimes I’m surprised anyone gets laid at all. It’s like women have evolved into beautiful, complex beings while the only thing separating guys from apes is that we’ve discovered manscaping.

-A lot has been written about how stick-thin models and actresses promote a negative body image among women. But no one seems to mention how this also affects men – who now prefer women with said negative body image. I used to describe my perfect girl as “petite.” Then it changed to “slender.” Now if I can’t see her bottom rib sticking out it’s a deal breaker. Don’t blame me, blame society.

-Being from New York and living in Los Angeles, I have a hard time interpreting women when I’m anywhere but those two places. For instance, I was touring the South once and a girl complimented my shirt. I could have sworn I was gonna get a blow job. Turns out she was just being nice. I tried to explain to her that, where I come from, girls aren’t just nice for no reason. You’re being genuinely sweet, I said, and that’s really confusing.

-People always ask me why I have zero desire to get married anytime soon. I tell them it’s because I suffer from a very serious condition known as R.D.S. – restless dick syndrome. Symptoms include morning wood, mid-afternoon wood, and a general desire to have sex with more than one woman for the rest of my life.

-The only time a single male will encourage one of his buddies to get engaged is if that buddy is dating a woman way above his pay grade. There are times when I’ve looked at my idiot friend, looked at his hot girlfriend, then just shrugged my shoulders and said, “Bro, lock it in.” As his longtime wingman, I actually take it personally if he’s hesitant to propose. I’m like, dude, I’ve been with you to the other side. The grass is definitely not greener.

-I told my parents the other day that I was annoyed they hadn’t visited me in LA in years – unless my dad had business in the area and had to fly here anyway. It struck me that, way back in Ruminations #61, I had argued the exact opposite point with my girlfriend. I was living in Long Island at the time, and I tended to hang out with her only when I had already commuted into Manhattan for something else, like a meeting. That drove her nuts. Six years later, I finally understand. I know this is too little, too late, but I just want to say to her now: I’m sorry. Thank God she married some other dude.

-Whenever I meet a writer or comedian who’s my age but ten times as successful as I am, I’m always really jealous. But if I find out he’s married and/or has kids, I’m even more pissed off. It’s such a waste. Those powers should be used for evil, not good.

-Despite my XY chromosomes urging me to bang as many XX chromosomes as possible, somehow the one thing I’ve never done is be unfaithful to a girlfriend. It’s just not my style. However, I believe that hooking up is the only treatment for restless dick syndrome and that if I do ever get married I’m gonna have to suppress my R.D.S. deep, deep down. Hopefully by then I’ll have gotten it out of my system enough not to stray. That’s why I don’t call what I do now sleeping around. I prefer “pre-cheating.”

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

-My buddy has been wearing an ironic/hipster calculator watch for about two months now. I refuse to acknowledge it. I know that he knows that I’ve noticed it, but I still won’t say anything. He should suffer in silence.

-I recently switched dry cleaners because my old dry cleaner was having nonconsensual sex with my wallet. While the new dry cleaner is cheaper, they return my shirts with the hangers inserted the opposite way than I’m used to. Apparently I had been paying a premium just to hang my shirts with the buttons facing left. I don’t know whether to indulge my OCD or ATM.

-The downside to being an Ivy League grad is that we’re not exactly college football powerhouses. I wish the ACC or the PAC-whatever would gobble up my school. They could use us as a practice squad or waterboys or something.

-Public transportation is virtually nonexistent in the LA metro area, but one of my buddies just moved so far to the fringe of Hollywood that he actually takes the subway into town. I didn’t even know there was a subway system. I think the next stop is in New York.

-I recently hooked up with this girl who had one nipple pierced. I told her she should get the other one done, too. She said she thought the asymmetry was sexier. I said well then you shouldn’t have asked the guy who hangs all of his shirts facing the exact same way.

-And, finally, I’d like to suggest some language that we can all use to help explain the fact that most married people aren’t actually happy. They’re what I called “married happy” or “mappy.” Let me explain: Happy is doing whatever you want, whenever you want it, and occasionally having a companion to share it with – basically being single and dating. Mappy is doing kinda what you want, sometimes when you want it, and always having a companion to share it with – but you have to choose that companion after the first third of your life and then spend the next two thirds of your life with them – and if at any point you decide, eh, you know what, I think I’m having second thoughts, you’re scorned by society and have to pay a person who hates you 50% of everything you earn until you die. Now would you rather be happy or mappy? Personally, I prefer to be happy. One of the problems with marriage is that there is very little margin for error. Guys just love to chase XX chromosomes – it’s literally part of our DNA. If a man gets married, all it takes is one little error in judgment, one mistake, one girl with a nipple piercing, and next thing he knows he’s divorced and kicking game to the bartender in the lobby of the Comfort Inn near the airport because that’s where he lives now. It’s not worth the hassle. I had dinner with a buddy and his wife the other night and, after a few cocktails, I laid out my entire belief system. And when I was done I said to my friend, so what do you think – be honest – are you happy or mappy? He looked at me, he looked at his wife, he looked back at me, and I’ll never forget what he said: “Pass.” Fuck me.

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