A Tribute To Living Single

In honor of a certain Paquet girl arriving to stay tomorrow, I believe my 42 months of bachelorhood need a semi-proper send-off that does not involve the "Vegas Showgirls" place on Gandy. So, here's to:

Machnacki and I playing tennis, cooking steaks, and watching the Yankees lose to the Angels on afternoon baseball on a sunny Saturday in Arlington.

My couch. It has cuddled me for so many nights.

Playing Metroid Prime for 20 straight hours.

Listening to We Didn't Start The Fire as loud as possible without Indiana upstairs hating me.

Teri Hatcher and Gillian Anderson desktop wallpaper.

Those three insanely sweet days last March involving KO on IM, lots of O.A.R., some alcohol, cosmic brownies, and staying up past 4am. They just made me shiver with pleasure.

Eating frozen pizzas, frozen chicken tenders, hot dogs, tater tots and steaks.

Never, ever, ever changing the sheets. Or making the bed.

Self-created fraternity rituals. Not really.

24 and The Daily Show with no interruptions.

My own closet. My own bathroom.

All those crushes I never acted on. I'm looking at you, Brian D*Wine.

And now I have to take down the 8 Lindsay Lohan posters. So it goes.

Let's get the living in sin on!