Well, Morissette, it ain’t ironic. Or is it? (a Man Diet update)

So the Man Diet, right?  I guess it’s been about three weeks ago that with a shrug of my eyebrow, I let it go.  It just slipped off of me like a scarf, or something wispy like maybe an unoccupied cocoon or an eyelash.  Nothing triggered it, I was not compelled by any particular man or idea of a man.   It was more like a realization that it was over.

Hey, remember the yada, yada episode of Seinfeld?  Well, yada, yada, I have a date tomorrow.  The first official “breaking the fast” date, to be more specific.  And, not ironically, it’s a breakfast date.  And… guess where we’re going?  The Cheesecake Factory, of course.  So maybe it is ironic.

And yeah, I’ll be keeping an eye out for those pesky virgins.

Flow When You