I haven't been blogging...I haven't really been flogging either. Actually, I haven't been doing much talking for that matter either. My good friend and neighbor, the Illustrious Finuji says I'm performing a "mouna vrath"...or fasting of silence. I caught the tail end of the new Bachelor in Paris last night. As much as I say I don't have the strength to watch it, I know I will find myself in front of the boob-tube every Monday night...addiction will slowly begin.

Last night's episode was purely comical, although a tad bit scary towards the end. It never ceases to amaze how rutheless and couthless a single, desperate, woman can be. One broad was rattling on endlessly about being ready for the "reproductive phase." Now who would go on national television and tell a strange guy that?! Someone who is hopefully getting paid a serious amouth cha-change to look ridiculous on national television!!

Although it seemed very unrealistic...I have to admit that in reality, I've dealt with a lot of women like this. Their hearts get trampled on by men time and time again and they start to get a little coocoo when dealing with the pressures and pitfalls of trying to find Mr. Right. Despair is a very ugly thing. And desperately seeking souls are often a scary sight to see. Case in point, the nutso oncologist on the first episode of the bachelor. I guess this scares me because I fear becoming desperately seeking Susan. Will I crack? Will meeting one more loser push me over the edge of the small cliff of sanity I currently stand on? Am I bound to be one of those women?? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaah...the thought makes me shiver in my payless loafers!