5. The Monster Mash

A heterosexual single male in his later 20's is a troubled beast - troubled, because rent is due and the weather is still icy; uncouth, because he eats this:

Fear not, Constant Readers, this is no Insect Mash (insects are expensive). This is How We Live Today: a can of black beans, crushed up El Milagro tortilla chips, and a liberal fist of Cholula Hot Sauce. This is a meal for lovers, specifically the love between a man and his own mind.

I eat things like this because the world is a cruel, unrelenting place, and also because money doesn't grow on trees (because if it did, wouldn't we all care a little less about the rainforest? I mean, most of us don't care at all, so we would actively start hating the rainforest, see.)

The point is, I look down at my bowl of bachelor mash and I think, were a beautiful girl to come into my life, and to become enamored of me, what would she think of the mash?

I think, after swallowing the vomit that had inched its way up her throat, she'd take a look at me, and then the bowl, and then me, and say, we've had a fun ride bud. No hard feelings, eh?

Well fuck you, lady, it tastes great, and you're not that pretty.

Well okay, you're very pretty - but girls don't make passes at boys with strange food affectations, and I have more than a few. Maybe that's why I'm all too comfortable riding this extended single wave I've been on - I'm not quite ready to give up this wretched lifestyle. But we'll get there, and we're gonna destroy a lot of the rainforest before we do.

By the way, yeah - it tastes great. Great.