***********Admin Note***************

As Slim Jackson embarks on his sabbatical, drinking CocoLosos on a mountaintop and contemplating the meaning of life, we treat you to another guest post. This time we bring you the fantastic musings of one of the newest members to the blog community – MaxFab! You can catch her daily exploits at Max-Logic. For now sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. Pause.

– Streetz La Fleur

During a recent conversation with a girlfriend, I dropped a bombshell on her that hurt her feelings and scarred her for life. We were discussing a mutual friend; a confirmed bachelor who seems to be systematically spreading his seeds across the female population of Toronto. My girlfriend does not rate this behaviour. Let’s take a peek at the conversation, shall we?

Mrs. JudgeyMcJudge: “When is it gonna end? It has to stop! Doesn’t he want to have a meaningful life??”

Badgyal Max: “So his life’s not meaningful because he has a lot of chex??”

Mrs. JudgeyMcJudge: “No it’s not! He needs to settle down and learn to be fulfilled by just one woman! He will never be happy until he falls in love!”

Badgyal Max: “Eff love!”

Mrs. JudgeyMcJudge is stupefied into silence.

Let’s consider the man in question, shall we? In his late thirties, he is intelligent and accomplished. He’s funny and insightful. He has a good relationship with his family and he has a lot of great friends. He also has women. Women he dates, women he bones, and women he befriends. And with all of these women he is honest about not wanting to settle down or fall in love. He lets them know right off the bat that he doesn’t see himself being with just one woman now or ever. And then he slams them. And their friends.

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Or consider your favourite blogger (let’s pretend that’s me for the sake of this post). Rapidly approaching my mid-thirties, I’m intelligent and charming. I have a good relationship with my family and a handful of very good friends. And when the opportunity arises in this stale-food city I call home, I date men. And if they’re lucky, I allow some of them to smell my ladyflower. And while I might occasionally get close enough to one or two of them to let them have some superficial knowledge of my whereabouts; that’s as far as it goes. I’m honest from jump in telling them that I have no intention of getting serious or falling in love.

Both my life and that of my p*ssy-slaying friend are fulfilling and meaningful as far as we’re concerned, so where does the idea come from that in order for us to be truly happy in life we must fall in love? Is there some kind of biological imperative that humans can only find happiness in pairs? Did I skip the class where we were all taught some ancient wisdom that dictates that true meaning in life lies in romantic love? Is it in the fine print of our constitutions? I don’t know, but to me this narrow-minded and arbitrary prescription for happiness just smacks of a society whose rules are based on the plotlines of bad romantic movies.

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Now before I get accused of being bitter and hurt for the millionth time let me say this: I’m not effing love in theory; I’m not effing those of you who have love in your lives or who actively seek it. I don’t cringe or gag when I see love in the streets. I love love, love is beautiful. But I also think Jenna Jameson is beautiful…doesn’t mean I want her to come live in my house.

So I ask the question again – where does the idea come from that in order for us to have happy, fulfilling lives, we must have a romantic partner to accompany us on our journey? Why is it so hard to consider that a carefully constructed life of fulfilling work, good friends, loving family relationships, and a steady stream of great thronxing is enough to make us happy? Who made that rule? Because I would like to punch that person in the face.

I have all the respect in the world for those of you who are willing to search for love and who – when you find it, are willing to work at sustaining it. It’s an admirable undertaking. But for me, I feel like I had it before and I’m good now. Right now I want a life of order, of peace and quiet. And romantic love often ends with someone’s bunny in a stockpot. So I say eff love….let’s just eff!

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What do you guys think? Anyone else out there removing love from their list of must-haves for a happy life? Do you believe it’s impossible to be truly happy without a romantic partner? Are those of us who say eff love just deluding ourselves or trying to avoid being hurt? Who’s effing love with me?

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