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.
