No flowers

I haven’t bought a girl flowers in a very long time. I thought of it yesterday while I was at the grocery store. I used to pick up fresh flowers quite often when my previous girlfriend lived with me. It’s probably been at least two years since I bought a girl some flowers; or even just picked some up for myself just to change the smell in my apartment from a smoke filled den of boredom to a smoke filled den of boredom with flowers.

I know flowers can be kind of cheesy, but I do like putting together a nice bouquet and giving them to the girl that has become the center of my affection. It’s old fashioned and I appreciate it. I like to think the girls do too.

Sunday’s tend to have that effect on me. I find myself feeling a little overwhelmed with loneliness. Sunday’s are good days to spend a little quality time with your significant other. I know everyone has busy lives and if you have kids then it’s hard to make that time special, but I do think that a smile or a wink or a quick shoulder rub can relieve some of that loneliness.

Unless you live alone in a third floor apartment and you’re only real companion is a Muppet that looks down at you from his perch on the stereo; his mouth in a perpetual state of screaming. I kid, I love my Muppet. It was a wonderful gift and I’m happy to have it. And on occasion I only feel a little crazy when I talk to it. It sort of feels less like I’m talking to myself and… no, it feels exactly like I’m talking to myself. Myself personified in Muppet form.

So you can clearly see that I need a girlfriend. (A real girlfriend you smart asses. Not a Muppet girlfriend. You guys are sick) I’d like to buy flowers for someone with the capacity to smell them and tell me how happy they made her.

The only problem with having a girlfriend and feeling happy is that I tend not to have anything to write about. When I’m with a girl and she’s making me happy and I’m making her happy all my desire to gripe and complain seems to fade away and the only stories I can write are about sweet bunny rabbits getting ready for their annual snuggletime jamboree in Hug-a-bug county. It’s sweet and bright and not my usual fare. When I’m single things do take a darker twist.

It’s a hell of a bunny jamboree however, but for the last few years at least one lonely bunny has taken it upon himself to unleash some sort of disruptive element. Last year he let a lion loose right as Mayor McBunny was giving his famous, “love”, speech. It was horrible; white fur everywhere, a bloody bunny trail of carnage.

So take these flowers lady. Save the bunnies.