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The unexciting adventures of the 41-year-old virgin continues. The plot thickens as he loses his job, is hounded by creditors and is tempted by the world of debauchery around him.

The 41-Year-Old Virgin At Large

Rather than dispensing rubberized credit vouchers, I was given an extension on my $30,000 debt if I took out another loan. So, guess what happened? Well, at least I know I won't be homeless ... yet. I hastily made reservations to go to Hawai'i. Hey! My nerves are shot! I need a vacation. The (former) Bull wanted to go, too, so we leave tomorrow on another adventure, this time in Hawai'i! It's a good thing I'm going to be a monk. I won't notice any of those babes over there. I just hope I can keep a leash on The (former) Bull. The Bishop told me that The (former) Bull called him up at 11:30pm and woke him up to tell him that we were going to Hawai'i. Well, all I know is that I hope I feel like coming back here a week from now.

After a long drive to LAX and an half-hour delay, we were finally winging our way on Hawai'ian Airlines to Honolulu at 6pm. The plane was half empty so The (former) Bull and I sat in separate rows. The babe flight attendant gave The (former) Bull extraordinary service. In fact she forgot to serve me dinner. She did tell The (former) Bull that he could have as many dinners as he wanted. During the flight yet another babe was hitting on The (former) Bull. We arrived in Honolulu at 8pm HST, and The (former) Bull whispered to me to give him the phone number of where I would be staying. He said he may need a ride later. So, after the plane landed I went to pick up my baggage. The (former) Bull stayed and talked to the babe flight attendant and the babe passenger. I got my luggage and picked up my rental car. I waited for The (former) Bull but he never showed up. Maybe he will regain his title once again.

Still no word from The (former) Bull so I spent some quality time with moms, my bro and sister-in-law, and my new nephew. It was hot. And, it doesn't get much cooler at night either. Fortunately moms had a large supply of guava nectar. My bro and I went to Waikiki for a few hours to look around. There weren't as many tourists as I expected. Of course, this is already past the Summer season. Still, it was exciting to be in a happenin' place versus that one-horse town I live in now. As we walked along Kalaka'ua Avenue, I knew that somewhere in one of these penthouse suites The (former) Bull was probably partying with his babes.

Moms and I went to Ala Moana Shopping Center. We got there early so it wasn't too crowded but within an hour there were people everywhere. It was about as bad out on the roads, too. Traffic was terrible everywhere, and that cryptic H-1 freeway didn't help. I tried to find the new Computer City store that opened near Pearl City using a map that was in the ad. After two hours of traversing back and forth after missing the exits several times, I finally stopped and asked someone. It was then that I realized I was nowhere near the store. It was in Waikele, about ten minutes away! The stupid map in the ad was wrong. It was now about 5pm, so I aborted the mission for today. The (former) Bull must be having a great time as I still had not heard from him. As for me, I spent a quiet evening talking with moms.

The heat is definitely starting to get to me. It is only about ninety degrees but add that high humidity and you can understand why my brain was cooking. I went to the University of Hawai'i to check out the situation. It is an old campus, but there are a lot of people who go there. There were a lot of babes there, too. This is not the kind of place a 41-year-old virgin should find himself. Fortunately, I was outta there quickly. I drove to Waikele and found Computer City. Isn't it amazing that I am in beautiful Hawai'i and I am still thinking about computers?

My bro and I had a little excitement today when we went over to pick up my nephew from the baby-sitters. We were standing in the living room when all of a sudden I heard two cars collide. I looked out the window and saw the car that was hit swing around and careen into the side of the house we were in. I ran outside and went up to the car. There was another person there on the driver's side. I was on the passenger side and I smelled gas so I yelled over to the other guy to reach over to shut off the engine. I looked over at the other car, and the driver was standing and appeared to be okay. The two passengers in the car I was standing next to were not doing as well. The woman was conscious but in some pain. The driver was semi-conscious and moaning. I moved over to the driver's side and tried to release his shoulder harness as it was wrapped tightly around him. Apparently it locked up in the impact. His seat was broken so I yelled to someone to get something to prop his head up. Several other people came up and were now assisting. The driver began convulsing. Someone brought a knife, and I cut his seat belt to free him. There was blood everywhere but I could not ascertain from where it came. The paramedics finally arrived and all of us stepped aside. That's one thing about Hawai'i. People are very neighborly and try to help. That's gradually beginning to change unfortunately.

The (former) Bull finally called so I went to pick him up in Waikiki. He had several packages with names like Armani on them. Apparently the babes bought him some gifts. Moms cooked a huge dinner for all of us. The (former) Bull must have been famished because he cleaned out many of the entrées before everyone else was done. This is the price we have to pay to have someone of his caliber bless us with his presence. After dinner, The (former) Bull laid out on the couch and the rest of us had to sit on the floor including moms. The (former) Bull is used to much, much better accommodations and he is not shy about letting you know that. I apologized for my inability to meet his high standards. It would seem that he has regained his title and will be a force to reckon with when we return home. There was a phone call for The (former) Bull at 9:30pm. It was one of his babes. He ordered me to drop him off at some posh manor in Blackpoint, one of the ritzy neighborhoods near Kahala. I drove him there and he said that he'll try to meet me at the airport on Saturday if he can. Otherwise, I should go on back to LA without him. When I returned home, I discovered that everyone was in awe of The (former) Bull. He has that effect on people.

My last day in Hawai'i, and I am already feeling a tinge of depression. I know that I really want to stay here. This is my home. This is where I belong. I never truly realized how much I miss my family. The last time I was home was five years ago. I felt the same way then, but when I return I always get caught up in all the stupidity and I forget about being homesick. This time it is different. I don't want to forget the feeling I have when I am in Hawai'i. It is so different from the empty, even lonely, feelings that I have in the place I now call home. My bro and I went down to catch part of the Aloha Festival, but we didn't make it in time. There were thousands of people there, though. Hawai'i is a special place. The air seems to be perpetually tinged with the tropical smells of plumeria and ginger. The warm days and nights and the colorful Aloha fashions will forever fill my memories.

I drove myself to the airport and returned the rental car. As I was walking to the gate, I heard The (former) Bull. He was a few feet behind me with an entourage of babes. They all kissed him good-bye. The plane was very crowded this time around. The (former) Bull was the center of attention on the plane. I guess he has officially regained his title. We arrived in LAX at 4pm. The drive back was long and boring. I could barely stay awake as I only slept about an hour the night before. We got in around 8:30pm and I felt miserable. I took a shower to try to refresh myself. All I could think about was Hawai'i and my family. I wept as I couldn't believe how lonely I felt. Why did I come back? I couldn't stay in at the Roach Motel any longer so I called my homey Tom, and we went to Starbuck's for coffee. It was little consolation. Now I am back in the world of The Idiots Next Door, Fido, BigFoot^tm, and maybe even Loser. Sheesh! Well, at least I have my six-four.

I have been thinking about packing it all up almost all morning. The thought of being at the Roach Motel all day almost made me sick so I called my homey Big John and we met to have coffee at Micky Dee's. I went to the gym later in the afternoon. I thought I was going to collapse. One week and I am already out of shape. In fact, I think I got even more puny. I returned to the Roach Motel and opened up a can of Bush's baked beans. I looked at the pathetic sight of this cold can of beans and almost threw it through the window. It is a far cry from the Lau Lau, Sashimi, Saimin, and everything else I was eating in Hawai'i. And let me not forget the Kim Chee! I tried to listen to my K-Mart all-in-one entertainment system. Nothing on the radio as usual. I miss I-94 (KMAI-FM) already. But, hey! BigFoot^tm is home watching the tube and it's up full blast! Speaking of losers, I happened to wonder if Loser came back. I have to walk around the Roach Motel and see if I can locate the empty box collection. Then, I'll know if Loser is back. After all, we are a little late with the Welcome Back Loser Houseparty. The Idiots Next Door have bought a new used car. Mr. Idiot must be proud. He's been out a few times to check it out. He probably can't believe he owns such a beautiful driving machine. Maybe he needs to pinch himself. Mrs. Idiot better watch out. Wait till all the babes peep out Mr. Idiot sportin' his new ride. Oh boy.

I am thinking about switching over to Spam for a while instead of Bush's baked beans. Spam is a delicacy in Hawai'i. In fact, Liberty House has some kind of SpamFest going on right now. Spammie and the Spammettes were on hand for the festivities on Friday when I stopped in. When I was growing up in Hawai'i, I remember that Spam and rice was one of my favorite dishes. Well, hey! I'm a loser! Well, with that said, Hawai'i is now history. I am back here at the Roach Motel with all these fools around me. I am the biggest fool of them all. I did happen to find out that The Monastery is also in Hawai'i. The waiting list for monk residencies is long but I have decided to apply anyway. I have to admit, a monastery in Hawai'i sounds a little silly, doesn't it?

The Bull was the center of attention today at the gym. Everyone was asking him about his big trip to Hawai'i. No one even knew that I went also. Several gym babes were coaxing The Bull to take them along with him next time. When I got home, I opened my mail only to discover that I have been thwarted again. My application to The Monastery may be rejected because I have not made a solid commitment. Booyah! The next envelope was from the loan people. They want to call the loans in again even though I got the new loan. Booyah! There is a sinister force toying with the mind and sanity of the oversized cranium. How is it that The Bull has everything coming his way while I am thwarted at every turn? It is a good thing I am not trying to find a babe. Can you imagine how much fun the sinister force would have with me then? To top it all off, BigFoot^tm is stomping around and playing with the volume control on the tube. He turns the volume down low for a while, then he turns it up full blast. He does this repeatedly all night long. These losers that live here at the Roach Motel are really something.

That incredible babe was at the gym yesterday. She came in late. I noticed her looking into the aerobics class that the Bishop, The Bull and I were in. She stood there at the glass doors for the longest time. It is a good thing I have finally broken out the shades. I wonder what baby was looking at. Maybe she was checking out The Bull, eh? Speaking of The Bull, he showed up at the gym two days in a row sportin' his new gym duds. Is there no end to this man's greatness? The Bishop has been showing some interest in a new babe, and he has been trying to establish a rapport with her. She apparently keeps to herself as she does not seem too responsive to anyone. The Bull has not even noticed her since she is way below his standards. If I wasn't going to become a monk, I'd say she was a real babe. I have been able to ascertain where she is looking, though. That is the beauty of wearing the shades. I will say that she definitely goes wild in the step class. Her moves betray her aloofness. So, where is she looking? I'll save that for another time. All I know is that there are some strange things going on. Am I the only one that sees these things?

Have you ever noticed that people are always running into you? I'm serious ... I mean, literally run into you. If two people are walking down a hall from opposite directions, they end up doing the two-step. Or, you can be in the middle of a large courtyard and see someone walking from any direction, and invariably both of you end up in the same spot somewhere along the way. What causes this to happen? Stupidity, maybe? With all the room there is around everyone, people still end up getting in each other's way. There is a strange attraction between humans that seems to go down even to the cellular level. It is a biological attraction similar to that experienced by opposing sexes. You are probably thinking that I lost it, or I have run out of stuff to write about. Actually, it provides an interesting insight into the difficulties of becoming a monk. In essence, becoming a monk is unnatural. It goes against biology, and the natural tendency toward completeness, whether social or sexual. But, hey! I'm an eunuch so it doesn't matter! You're not going to believe this but as I was walking out of the Roach Motel I saw a Ryder truck parked out front. Two people were unloading the huge truck. Then, I saw "stooge" walking with a crate up the stairs. I peeked over into the truck and guess who was in there? It was Loser! He's almost a week late! Just when we thought he wasn't coming back. If only he knew how many people were waiting for his return. Sheesh! What a maroon!

Thursday September 21

After the pathetic Welcome Back Loser Houseparty, I went to the gym. Within minutes, the Bishop came in and he could hardly wait to tell me that The Bull was out on a date last night. Another gym babe was enamored by The Bull's charisma, so what else could he do? The Bull kissed her hand after the date, claiming that he was a man of tradition. The Cardinal lost it and told The Bull, "That 18th century crap doesn't work today. What are you going to do, kiss her on the forearm next?" Meanwhile, apparently one of the gym babes was asking another gym babe about the Bishop. These studs have all got it goin' on. It is a continual babefest for these guys. Meanwhile, the 41-year-old virgin has to sit around and listen to this. I am beginning to wonder if this life is for real. But, at least I can come home to hear BigFoot^tm stomping around and playing with the volume on the tube or The Idiots Next Door having a door-slammin' soirée. Now that's reality!

As you have probably noticed, the thrust of this rhetoric has been slowly converging on babes. I have begun to realize that I have been influenced by my environment. I have almost forgotten about becoming a monk, much to the chagrin of the monks at The Monastery. Oddly, I have only fallen to the wayside in my mind. It is not like I have babes running amuck here at the Roach Motel. In fact, I am even more invisible to the babes now that I have incorporated the use of the shades. But, I have been able to discreetly see what is going on around me. Needless to say, everything discussed in the Monk's Guide to Dating has been confirmed. Further, I can now attest to the fact that shielding one's eyes from view makes one totally invisible. Eye contact is a primary sensory confirmation of one's existence. So, what have I seen? I have been able to ascertain who the babes have been checking out, although I have not shared this information with anyone. It is interesting to compare these observations with the perceptions of the guys. This could be the topic of an interesting study. Of course, the main thing that I confirmed is that I am totally invisible to babes. Not one even glanced in my direction. On a lighter note, The Cardinal mentioned that one of the new guys was asking him why I was wearing shades in the gym. He told him that I had just gotten out of prison, and I was trying to "adjust to the new life." That Cardinal is a real cut-up. I think I am due for a few days of seclusion. See y'all next week!

Seclusion isn't really all it's made out to be. Actually, it is a foot in the door to insanity, especially if one has to sit here in an asylum like the Roach Motel. Well, what else can I do? I have no job, no money, no personality, and no life. But seriously, folks, things have gotten out of hand around here. And, I'm beginning to suspect it's the babe situation. It's like when I was talking with my homey Manuel, another 40-something type. I asked him why he wasn't going after any babes. "I'm a hermit," he replied. So, here we are laughing while the last grains of sand filter down the hourglass. We are literally running out of time. Soon, we will never have to worry about the babe situation again. But, we will have to live out quite a few years as hermits. I guess it really doesn't hit home until it is too late. It is as if we think we are immortal.

I have been watching the antics at the gym through my shades and it is rather entertaining. Well, who have the babes been checking out? The Bull and the Bishop. The one babe that the Bishop was interested in (which one is he not interested in?) was there. She is a true babe. I noticed that she was walking home. I thought about stopping and giving her a ride since it was dark but I decided against it. She probably would have thought I was a stalker. It is funny how people like me and my homey Manuel refuse to play the game. I have always refused to play the game, even before I decided to become a monk. It's like Manuel says, "Why bother? They don't even know I exist anyway." Sadly, this is all too true. Yet, now I have to wonder. I am a 41-year-old virgin. It is not a matter of the wild thing. The issue is that I have never been with, nor will I ever be with, a babe. I will never know that experience. When it is put into that perspective, it becomes a very sobering thought. That's when the pangs of despair come in. Why was I born a regular guy in a loser's body?

Have you noticed that the more problems you have going on with your life, the more people stay away? I have. Oddly, I have had to listen to other people's problems ad nauseam. Maybe that is the reason my homey Manuel claims to be a hermit. Perhaps he has experienced the same sort of thing. This is the main reason I did not go over to Big Don's to watch Monday Night Football. I did stop in to see my homey Big John. I am dismayed at how pivotal the tube is for entertaining. Everywhere I go, people have the tube on. I am so glad that I sold my tube. I ended up watching some movie at Big John's about a psychobabe called Beauty's Revenge. I was a little surprised that it was even shown. Usually, there is a proliferation of stalker movies with the guy as the nemesis. Little wonder why babes are so afraid of guys or call all guys pigs. I have to wonder sometimes about the overall sanity of this society.

Well, I guess it has been a virtual babefest at the gym. The Bull has been making significant headway with his new babe but this has caused a bit of a problem with one of the gym staff who was also interested in her. The Bishop has also made significant inroads with several babes. As for the 41-year-old virgin, he remains totally invisible. Or, so I thought. The Bull mentioned to me that several of the babes have asked why I have been wearing the shades. This has given me reason to be concerned because I may end up having another visit from the cops. I can hear it now ... "Officer, he's staring at us from behind those shades. We know that those are X-ray specs. He's a psycho!" If it's negative, then they notice me only because they fear I am a stalker. Without the stalker shades, I am an invisible loser. Amazing isn't it? One minute I'm there, the next minute I'm not. It's magic! Frankly, I welcome the negativity as a result of the shades. As my world continues to collapse, I really want to be left alone. I don't want anyone to even talk to me. Those stupid shades! Try it out sometime as an experiment and see what a furor dark glasses can cause. It really is somewhat entertaining. In fact, that is about the only thing that made me laugh in weeks.

I am beginning to sympathize more and more with my old friend Loser. I can now see the kinds of stupidity that can drive a man berserk. So, in the course of two weeks, I have disassociated from everyone. I don't think I've spoken more than two words in the last three days. Talking now seems like noise to me. There are places that silence is revered such as in a monastery. I can at least rationalize that this will be good practice. I only wish I was a monk already. I can't handle it out here in the "real world." To tell you the truth, if this is the real world, then give me the fake one.

Naturally, I didn't have to disassociate from any babes. I don't know any! Well, hey! I'm an eunuch! I ended up breaking my silence when the Cardinal, The Bull and I went out to dinner after the gym. The Bull mentioned that he, the Bishop and Hugo got together on Tuesday night to watch a movie and talk about babes. I was thankful that I am not invited to these events anymore. On a lighter note, I have found out that the newsgroup alt.fan.conan-obrian has abstracts of selected episodes posted. I have been able to "watch" his show now by reading those abstracts. Now, if only there were abstracts for Baywatch.

Well, another dreaded weekend is coming up. For a 41-year-old virgin with no life, this can be traumatic. It looks like I may have to go into seclusion again. Back in the days of the Homer Notebook, I noticed that we guys spent most weekends drinking with each other. The babes, on the other hand, always had somewhere to go or something interesting to do. Babes lead much more exciting lives than most guys. That brings me to another point. The Bull is implicitly looking for a babe who is innocent and demure ... a virgin. I think he will be quite surprised to see that most babes have far more experience with the wild thing than most guys. It doesn't seem to make sense given societal roles and prevailing myths, or given the population for that matter. There really only is a small circle of guys who are getting around, as it were, and this subset doesn't just include the jerks as most people would assume. Think about it. Most guys have only had one or two girlfriends by age 21 if even that, yet listen to the babes and the average is usually six to eight by the same age. So, which guys are getting around? Take the gym, for example. A couple of the meatheads, as I have come to find out, have been through quite a few of the gym babes. Heavy D has been through the most as far as I can tell. So much for that old myth about women not liking muscleheads, eh? Heavy D operates very quietly and discreetly, as do several of the other gym studs. In fact, he was seeing that incredible gym babe not very long ago. I wouldn't have believed it, except that I knew two of his old conquests back in the days of the Homer Notebook.

So there I was playing games with myself and writing the stupid Homer Notebook, and Heavy D was bumrushin' the whole situation. Sheesh! I remember when me and my homeys, Manuel and Rick, were members of the infamous B-Team, and we lamented about that same exact situation, and that was ten years before the Homer Notebook era! The bottom line is this ... don't believe the hype. If anyone tells you that the situation is different, then that individual is probably trying to sell you some cheesy self-esteem book with a title like Get a Life Now! All one has to do is tune in to an episode of Melrose Place to see what's really going on. There is a fine line between fantasy and reality. Well, it time for me to step into my closet for a weekend of seclusion.

I had to brush my coat hangers aside, get out of my closet, and effectively end my seclusion a little earlier than planned. I have a lot of work to do. I went to the library to try to start on some of this work, but I ran into my homey Big John. I sat and talked to him for a couple of hours. Then, I realized that it was gym time. I really didn't want to go to the gym, but if I didn't go to the gym, then I wouldn't have anything to do. But if I went to the gym, I couldn't do anything because I am still sore from my last workout. And, if I stayed in the library, I wouldn't get anything done because my nerves are shot. What a life I lead!

There is nothing like starting your day with a cup of coffee, unless you discover that your cheap French Press is broken. The sinister force has now struck at the heart of my mendicant life. Yesterday, I noticed that the parking lot of the Roach Motel serves as a wind tunnel. The cheap car cover on my six-four, in combination with the wind, has been sanding my paint down (what's left of it). Then, it took over a half-hour for me to log on, as my access was denied. I thought that my account was canceled. It is little wonder that my nerves are shot. Add to that the door-slammin soirée that has been going on since seven this morning in The Idiots' place. They have also run the garbage disposal three times in the last twenty minutes. It must be a day off for both Mr. and Mrs. Idiot. What better way to spend time than to stay in that little shoebox all day and play with the Roach Motel appliances. It must be nice to be moronic. Anything could make one happy then. The sinister force struck again in the afternoon as I was leaving for the gym. The battery in my six-four was just about dead. So, I ended up at Sears for an hour putting up with some extremely rude service. Now, I have a new battery and it costs about as much as my six-four is worth. I went to watch Monday night football over at Big Don's place. The Bull and the Bishop were also there. After the game, the boys hit the hot tub and I watched Timecop. It's a good thing because they were discussing their babes again. I don't need to worry about babes, I have the sinister force keeping me occupied.

 Well, another morning of the door-slammin' soirée courtesy The Idiots Next Door. That is why I try to log on around 11pm when the modem pool is real busy. The Idiots hit the sack at nine. I have my modem up full blast and it's really great on multiple redials. The sinister force drove me to this. I'm not certain that I would make a good monk at this point. All I'm good at is being a non-entity. Sometimes I wonder if the sinister force is working against my sobriety. After all, I am coming up on one year. It has been a very long year. Of course, that is nothing compared to the ten years of non-stop drinking I have on my vitae. I have no clue about why I was drinking for so long. I think it has to do with babes. Well, what else could it be? Things fell apart ten years ago. My so-called friend ran off with my ex-babe, who I was living with for seven years. Naturally, I deserved it because I was out of hand at that point in time. I could have been another OJ Simpson. Speaking of OJ, I hear Bigfoot^tm stomping around. He has the tube up, so he must be anxiously awaiting the OJ verdict. Bigfoot^tm is about as bad as Loser. He just can't seem to park his ass. The problem with Bigfoot^tm is that when he paces, he stomps.

Back to my pathetic story. My "friend" and baby flaunted their affair in front of me. Baby was a babe. After all, she was a Playboy bunny (not centerfold) working out of the now-defunct Century City Playboy Club. That's her in the photo. I, on the other hand, was a loser. Baby was a real babe. Isn't it amazing that all guys can remember after a long relationship is how much of a babe their babes were? It is equally amazing that both men and women usually sum up a relationship as, "Well, the sex was great..."

This just in! OJ is innocent! There is a lot of cheering from the next building as the verdict is read. Bigfoot^tm is now feverishly playing with the volume control on his tube. It is a strange world we live in. As a future monk I must separate myself from political and secular affairs. Thus, OJ has no significant meaning. He is, however, a free and constitutionally innocent man. He is the icon of 90s justice. Later in the day, I told some people at the gym that I enjoyed the verdict. "I love OJ!" I yelled. I thought I was going to get mugged.

OJ is free, and I am a prisoner of total stupidity! As we speak, Bigfoot^tm is doing his thing with the volume control again. I noticed that my $80 car cover was shredded in some spots. Apparently, a cat had some fun and sprayed on it, too. Maybe I should put out a small bowl of anti-freeze for him, eh? My nerves are completely shot, and I am on the verge of total violence. The sinister force has been working very hard indeed. What does it want from me? I have nothing. I certainly don't have any babes. That is how sinister this force really is. It picks on losers like me and pushes them to the edge of sanity. You would think that the sinister force has better things to do like help out all these studs who are skinnin' up all the babes. Bigfoot^tm is now taxing the three-inch speaker in his tube. He turned it down again. Baha! Ha! Ha! He's possessed by the sinister force! I knew it! You know, I'm ready to crack, just like the three-inch speaker that is once again up full blast. Awww krunk! I need to find a babe. I need a drink. I need a smoke. There's no way I can become a monk now. Sheesh!

Eight-thirty in the morning is just too early for an eunuch to be up, especially for a meeting. I could barely think, but what else is new? I thought that it might have been because I didn't have my pot of coffee yet. But, in actuality, I have been displaying symptoms of attention deficit, inability to retain material and so forth. I'm losing it. When I finally got home I made a pot of coffee in my broken French Press. I put my half-and-half in as usual and took a sip. Whoa Nellie! The creamer was spoiled. Needless to say, the coffee tasted bad. It was the sinister force at play again, toying with the ol' eunuch! Speaking of eunuch, I don't even know what possessed me last night to think I needed a babe. Was it the sinister force, you think? That sinister force is something, isn't it? It is toying with my sanity and making me think about babes so that I will forget about becoming a monk. That's the beauty of it all, too. That sinister force is clever. It knows that a loser like myself only needs to be tempted by thoughts of babes, so it will never need to tempt me with real babes. And, yes! This is the same sinister force that G. Gordon Liddy referred to in the Watergate hearings! I'll probably put a lighter to my arm pretty soon, too.

I have been unwittingly tossed into more social situations, much to my chagrin. Big Don, his son Michael, The Bull and I went out to dinner after the gym. The conversation was primarily on OJ and babes. As I drove home, some idiot ahead of me slowed down to a snail's pace. As it were, he was straining his neck to check out two gorgeous babes walking. The babes must have seen him because they yelled out, "Hey! Turn around and drive!" As I mentioned before, babes do not realize the effect they have on guys. I think the idiot that crashed into my six-four three years ago was checking out some babes. Why else would he ram into me as I was right in front of him? Maybe it was the sinister force. Loser was doing his laundry tonight as I was leaving. Looks like he may be up to his old tricks again. I wonder who his unfortunate downstairs neighbor is. And, Bigfoot^tm has a babe over tonight. She's taking a shower and he's rearranging the furniture. How many of you think that I'll be hearing the wild thing tonight? Well, hey! At least it's not Loser playing "fire engine." Well, so much for going into seclusion this weekend.

 I should have gone into seclusion this weekend because my nerves are completely shot. I was not privy to hearing the wild thing last night, thank goodness. Perhaps that will happen tonight. Never a dull moment at the Roach Motel. As I was sitting here at the computer typing in this diatribe, I couldn't help but equate it with The Shining, where Jack Nicholson typed out hundreds of pages with "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." Isn't this just about the same thing? When I first saw that movie, it gave me the willies. Now, it's just plain hysterical. Remember when Jack used the ax to splinter the bathroom door? Then, he stuck his face in the hole he just made and said, "Wendy, I'm home." What a scene! What a psycho! Jack was possessed by the sinister force.

That brings me to another topic. My sources have indicated to me that Heavy D has even had his way with that incredible gym babe. Then, I have learned that the other babe that the Bishop was interested in is actually seeing another of the meatheads. I had to chuckle to myself when I realized how stupid the whole scenario was. On the one hand, Heavy D and the meatheads are out bumrushin' the whole situation. And, on the other hand, my homeys are still trying to figure out the logistics. Jimbo put it well when he said, "The meatheads have already batted, and these guys are still trying to decide which bat to use." Yeah. Wait until they turn 41! If they are still trying to figure out which bat to use, then all I can say is "Sheesh!" The whole situation is rather comical. I could almost write a book about it. It is literally a babefest in this silly little town I live in, yet if you talk to my homeys, you would think we're at the YMCA! To be real honest, you really have to work at being a loser around here. Me ... I am a loser so I don't have to work at it. It just comes naturally. It's a good thing that I am going to become a monk. Can you imagine what I have to see all the time? Can you fathom the negligible esteem I must endure?

Continue the adventure now ... move on to more of the unexciting month of October!

The Return of the 41-Year-Old Virgin

Starring
41-Year-Old Virgin ... Tralfaz
The Bull ... Himself
The Bishop ... Himself
The Cardinal ... Himself
And a cast of thousands.

Original Soundtrack by Foolboy-G
Presented by 41-Year-Old Virgin/Partners in association with JumpStart Productions.

© Copyright 1995 by the 41-Year-Old Virgin.
LoserNet^tm Love It, or Lose It.