You know the old "some days you're the windshield, some days you're the bug," right? Today's a bug day. Feel like I'm getting squashed. Happening more and more. Sometimes I'm on here, all breezy and loose and looking for people to talk dirty. The next day I'm looking at goddamn puppies and tearing up.

Yeah, so it's maudlin time.

I've been married for more years than I'll mention. It's a good marriage. Have some fairly likable kids. I'm mostly happy. I'm certainly secure. It's a good life.

But sometimes I lay awake at night and think of all the shit that could have been. That's hardly uncommon. It's a cliche for a reason after all.

Maybe if I'd been smarter and less of a drunken 19-year-old, I'd have stuck it out with the hometown girl. She was sweet. She loved me unconditionally. As Bruce said so well, "you ain't a beauty but hey you're alright," but I'm no Leo either.

OK, fuck, we were 19, maybe it was infatuation. But if we'd stuck it out, I'd have been a professor or something. I'd have been less angry. I'd have gone to France way, way earlier. I'd drink wine instead of whiskey?

She married and divorced my roommate after I dumped her.

Sometimes I think about being a widower (what kind of sick fuck does that?), and just showing up on her door step and saying, "I'm here to do what we should have done in 1987...will you marry me?"

Fuck, I just realized I wrote the truly horrific last episode of HIMYM.

Well, got that off my chest. Time for dick jokes and beer.