So? It's Sunday.

I signed up for yet another online matchmaking service. Okay, well...I filled out the questionnaire, I didn't pay anything...yet.

When will I learn that most men online are looking for a young, athletic, sex-starved camping and NASCAR watching partner? You can't be fat, you can't be smarter, you can't be non-athletic or not want to sleep with their dog in the bed. You must also be willing to drive to his house and provide sex on demand, before or after going to the game. Or better yet, watch the game on TV with him, and then roll joyfully into bed. I'd say I was bitter, except I keep trying...

Hope springs eternal. What man wants my fat, snoring, brilliant ass for a long-term relationship? Hello? Are you out there? (knock, knock, knock on your monitor)

I'm going over to visit my late, great friend's widower this afternoon. He is still, after six months, sitting in his house with his dog, smoking cigarettes and watching TV. When he can't sleep, he goes to the local casino to play poker (and WINS). He chews on his grief like jerky...working it over and over until all the flavor is gone, but never swallowing it and finishing the job. He is my friend, and I love his pathetic ass, even though he makes it really difficult. Every time I think, "why do I bother?" I see my girlfriend looking at me, pleading, "Take care of him...I can't any more." So, I'll go and keep being his friend.