Friends, Romans, Countrymen -

It's official. I am no longer pursuing anyone ever again. I originally thought I would declare myself a raging lesbian or asexual. (Although it would seem I'm on the one anti-depressant that has NO risk of sexual side effects. Figures.)

I just read a few chapters of "He's Just Not That Into You" and I just realized: I've pursued EVERY MAN I'VE EVER DATED. I'm not kidding. I mean, EVERY MAN. I shouldn't say man. Guy. Every one. Whether smooching him at a bar, begging my friends to set me up with so-and-so, calling a guy first or encouraging a guy who supposedly likes me to grow a set and ask me out (although, that relationship was good for about 1.5 years, to be fair and he's now one of my best friends).

I've always thought I was more manly than some women. I've also thought, in general, that men were pussies and thus it was my responsibility to ask them out if I intended to find love and sex.

This is just silly. And rather tarded. And I wonder why all my relationships bite the dust in the worst way possible.

That's not true! Jim B, king of the Jewfro, asked me out! Ha! Although talk about a headcase. Jesus Christ. And Sander, ex-male prostitute, asked me out. Now, that's quality.

Yeah, definitely time to fly solo for a while. Douchebags. Chubby hairy douches with lisps and bad posture. I squeeze my left one in your general direction and lube up the Silver Bullet, Jenna Jameson's "Masseuse" in hand.