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.