I've Gone And Messed It Up, Messed It Up, Messed It Up Yet Again . . .

"Aw, it just wasn't meant to be, Marty." Now I know folks say shit like this to be nice, but they don't think of what is implied from such a statement, or what logically follows from the implications. What do I mean? Well, "meant to be" implies the existence of destiny, and had my destiny meant to include [insert hootchie mamma's name here], I'd be with her. The fact that I'm not means my destiny is not with [insert name of chick I really got along with] and nothing I did would have changed that. OK, so far, so what. Well, obviously this destiny isn't known to me or the well-intentioned person who uttered the phrase. Now, there are poor sods out there who have lived, are living, or will live lives of loneliness and desolation, and it is possible that I might be one of those. If destiny does exist, if I was "meant to be" one of these poor sods, then nothing I do will keep me from a destiny of being seventy, eating government cheese in my boxers, with cats, lots and lots of cats.

So, don't take it the wrong way if I tell anyone who tells me "it just wasn't meant to be" to cram it with nuts and cranberries.

P.S. - No, this wasn't spurred by a disastrous date. Just feeling rather ornery tonight. And TV Chick is no longer a member of Match.com which is making a part of me going, "Thanks a lot you flakey bitch," another part of me going, "Great, she found a boyfriend and was leading me along," and another part of me, well, another part of me isn't effected but wants some sleep (3 days of sleep to be exact) and vodka.