Male seeking female: intimacy and light housekeeping

Good evening America. How are you? I am well. Evidently we have a new president now. I'm not impressed. I am sure Mr. Obama is a perfect gentleman, and certainly the lesser of two evils (Sarah Palin in the White House? Good God.) but this all becomes moot since I continue to plot the revolution in my desert hideaway. After my swift and efficient coupe, a new world power will rise from the ashes, that being of course my benevolent dictatorship. Max Tyson, King of America at your service. I'll totally have a statue made somewhere.

To comment on the present and very recent past a bit, today was sunny again, although a little chilly. I woke up early and worked on Nerd Novel, and then left the Apt to get some fresh air and sunshine. The truth is America, I have not done my dishes in a long time. So long that I actually don't have one piece of kitchenware left to use. I do keep my shelf stocked with paper plates and plastic utensils however, so the lack of formal dining implements is only distressing in so much as the pile of uncleaned stuff has begun to smell. Real Bad.

Avoiding the problem like a proper American, I went to the bank and then back to the Harley Dealership for another meeting that I had scheduled in my head and not told them about. I feel they were pleasantly surprised with my unannounced conference. Afterward I came back home, and at the cost of seared nostrils lurked in my fortress watching standup on comedy central until work. At work I met a former senator of the USA and got scammed on a little by mom-babes. I then ran a few miles and did a leg workout, anything to keep me out and away from the steaming pile of crusty dishes waiting for me back home. If you leave unwashed dishes for long enough, they go through a natural evolutionary process which is rather fascinating to behold. At the moment mine have achieved basic motor abilities which allow them to move on their own and, I fear, plot horrible things while I sleep.

It looks like I am going to have to bite the bullet America. There is only one logical next step that must be taken, no matter how unpleasant it is to think about. I have to get a girlfriend.

What? Its not like I'm going to clean them. I don't have a vagina.