As it turns out, there were divers in the water around the same time I had driven over the bridge, and it was since discovered that in some parts the bridge was not even connected to the concrete piers beneath it.

Who knew the picture I took of the bridge would turn out to be the very last one I would ever make before it closed permanently? I found myself truly saddened by its demolition, as another piece of our history is now gone for no other reason than because of the gross incompetence and stupidity of our local politicians. Thanks Albany!

Here’s a photo from my last view of the Lake Champlain Bridge before I drove over. You can also read more about its history here.

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Thank you all for your kindness, your encouragement, your friendship and most of all, for recognizing my supreme awesomeness.

God bless you all!

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So anyhoo, I was on Craigslist in the strictly platonic section, and surprisingly enough, I find an ad by a girl looking for someone to accompany her for pleasant conversations and the best hot cocoa she could find in the city. She had read an article listing the best 22 places to find hot chocolate and was planning to check them all out, and her ad was an invitation to join her on her chocolatey journey. I thought it was the most adorable thing I ever read, and promptly sent her an email.

You think I got a response? Of course not.

So you know what, hell with it, I’ll go visit these places myself and sip my own damned cocoa. I managed to find the article she was referring to, so now I can make my own chocolatey journey through the city, probably starting New Year’s Day. New Year’s Day is the best time to go joyriding around Manhattan too, practically everyone is in bed with a hangover while the sober, smart ones among us have the whole city to ourselves.

So I’ll just have to dance alone as usual, but I’m not going to let that stop me from having a good time.

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Hmmmm, I was the last person to use this elevator too.

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But there are times when I literally cannot look upon a woman beast, partly because I just had lunch and would really like to complete the digestive process if you don’t mind, thank you very much. Oy.

As if that wasn’t enough, I can’t even accept as beautiful what Hollywood and Glamour magazine considers beautiful. I mean, I can see that they’re pretty by society’s standards, but even when they’re pretty they’re just… ugly. Case in point: Sarah Jessica Parker. UGLY. Julia Roberts. UGLY. Even Scarlett Johansson can’t get my engine going. And don’t even get me started on Tiger Woods’ hos. Seriously, all that money and you can’t find better looking monkey sluts? FAIL.

Anyhoo, I guess what I’m saying here is that I have very particular tastes when it comes to looks, and it’s not something I can really convey into words. They either got it, or they don’t. Or maybe I don’t think they got it at first, but after enough interaction and watching them act all girlie and stuff, I realize they not only got it, but they got it in spades. Mmmm mmm MMMM. (And then of course, they go off to marry a biker.)

So, does that make me shallow? I’m pretty sure it does, but here’s why I’m ok with that: women are worse. MUCH worse.

Almost ALWAYS without exception, the first thing I see in any personal ad by any women from here to Zimbabwe is their requirement that a man must be at least fill-in-the-blank tall. They start out by demanding the one physical criteria that men have absolutely no flipping control over whatsoever. I seriously have to thank God I clocked in at an average height here, or I’d be screwed royally six ways from Sunday. Even then I’m not tall enough to meet the standards of a significant amount of women.

And of course, women will also objectify men based on his looks, status, intelligence, earning power, the kind of shoes he wears and the car he drives. Yep, all things (with the possible exception of intelligence) that can truly define a man’s soul. Pffttt.

The irony of it all is that I’m actually ok with this too. We’re all disgustingly shallow beings here if we were to be completely honest with ourselves. And besides, it’s not without merit to judge a man according to his earning power for example (I make a crapload of money now by the way), just as it’s not without merit for me to expect that a woman should not look like the second coming of Jabba the Hut either.

I’m not stupid though. If I set a high bar for the women I meet, then I have to apply those same standards to myself as well. And if that means taking a shower more than once a week, well then… so be it. Better hygiene, better clothes, and possibly a medieval torture machine so I can stretch my height just a few inches more, yep, I’ll do all that and more if it makes her happy.

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I walk inside and oh me oh my, I see this cute as a button hippie girl, wearing one of those knit hats and arm length gloves, and just kind of looking adorable. I quickly got my Big Gulp and maneuvered in line next to her as she went to pay for smokes. She glanced over at me and I gave my usual toothy smile. She smiled back.

Then I happened to notice a very angry looking boyfriend standing next to her too. Whoa. I knew it was the boyfriend cuz he looked just as hippy, with out of control hair and the most pathetic excuse for a beard I’ve ever seen. I nodded at him and he just narrowed his eyes even more, you know, the way Superman might narrow his eyes when he’s using heat vision to bore into someone’s skull.

Yeah, ok. This girl was so cute though, so I just tried to steal a glance every now and then while pretending to check my watch, the wall or the male enhancement pills that were on the counter.

To be honest, I was kind of annoyed about it, especially when he put his arm around her as if just to make the point that she belonged to him, nana nana poo poo. Yeah go choke on your weed, schmuckbrain.

It turns out that I shouldn’t have gotten too upset over it, because once I walked out I noticed a car stuck in the middle of the parking lot. Hippie Boy had just blown a tire and was now frantically getting out a jack to get it fixed, while his darling angel stood there with crossed arms and an oh so satisfyingly disappointed look on her face.

I just broke out laughing, and continued to laaaaugh and laaaaaugh, all the way home.

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