Let’s face it: I’m feeling lonely. One of the many disadvantages of being stuck in the middle of a tropical rainforest is there are no single women living about. I came with the curious title heading this post after a brief online discussion with a jerk (yes, John P. I’m looking at you; don’t act as if you don’t know what I’m talking about).
This moron suggested that I should cheer up; that perhaps I’d find some Jane to play Tarzan games down here in the jungle. This pissed me off royally and since then I got the idiot on my ignore list at the Amazon Forums. I was mad because the chance that his suggestion actually happens is nearly impossible.
You see, as far as I am able to fathom, women are creatures that love comfort; things like hot running water, electricity, a supermarket that doesn’t require the arrangements for a safari to buy a couple of cans and even (gasp!)… a working toilet. Gone are the days when a woman will tolerate having to live like a frontier pioneer… which is the way I’m currently leading my life. Regrettably, there’s a terrible shortage of Janes, nowadays. Anyone who thinks otherwise has been seeing too many reruns of that Daktari TV show and had just gotten his or her brains utterly fried…
Another guy suggested that I find a local girl to settle down and marry. Fortunately, he is also a Hellboy Fan and he was able to understand the description I provided him of the local Venezuelan women:
“Remember that gigantic votive fertility statue that Hellboy uses to squash thousands of cannibal faeries at the beginning of the second Hellboy movie?” I asked him.
“Uh-huh,” he said, intrigued by what I had just said.
“Well, local Venezuelan women are like that; only bigger and heavier…”
“That bad?” he asked, quite disappointed.
Also, there’s the matter of heredity to consider. You know, I’d like to have offspring (someday) that doesn’t require the use of an instruction booklet on How to Breathe: Venezuelan women are dumber than bricks. Not their fault; they have been bred that way by the Macho society that prevails down here. The local males don’t like smart women and have slowly bred them out of the genetic pool. They like their women dumb and servile. A smart, capable woman would only make their little thingies shrivel away in fear.
So, here I am: growing old alone because there is no eligible single female around. Alone and dreaming of a better life with someone else, while writing about loves that never seems to find its direction towards me… Writing, dreaming… and waiting.
Boy! Now I’m depressed