A short treatise on the subject of romance.

Shit's fucked up, but you already knew that.

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Addendum

I shouldn't be so harsh. I mean, I'm sure there are people who find True Love™ and everything's magnificent and storybookish and whatnot. But...

1. How many people do you know that really have done exactly that, so far? Out of the people roughly my age that I know of... a handful? Probably single-digits. And, let's face it, the story on them is nowhere near done being written. Not trying to be a dick or anything, but that's just the way it goes sometimes.
2. Yeah, I have some pretty high standards. They're not unreasonable, and it's not like nobody's ever been able to meet them. But when you run across someone who you think might just make the grade, and you end up rolling snake-eyes instead... well, to quote The Dude, "that's just a bummer, man."
3. Some mathematicians recently crunched some numbers to try and figure out a general idea of how many people in the world there are who would make a good significant-other for you. I don't remember all the details, but the number was depressingly low, possibly in the triple-digits. For the world.

So, there you have it. For now. Who knows, maybe I'll meet that left-handed blonde Asian bass player while buying bagels at the place up the street tomorrow, and I'll be singing a different tune.

Speaking of women, and tunes, I think the late Bon Scott sang about all of this pretty eloquently.