Bryan with a “y”

I’m single again.

This is both a good and a bad thing.

Good, as I can catch up on a lot of repressed burping and farting.

Bad, as I’ll be catching up on a lot of “solo activities”. (whisper: masturbating.)

The onset of a sex drought aside, one of the things I immediately find is more “me” time – fancy quotes and all. Going to the local coffee shop is a good way to do something with “me” time other than just staying home masturbating. Aside from the bland $18 iced tea and the Maroon 5 CD that plays over and over and over again, what annoys me about the coffee shop scene is I’ve suddenly developed horrible laptop envy. OOOOOOH the laptop envy!!! I don’t know what all you laptop people are sitting there clicking and tap tapping away at – but you look like you’re up to something very clever, and I want to be in on very clever too. I see your little fingers are busy creating a thesis, resume or PowerPoint presentation while my fingers are busy creating animals out of a straw wrapper, of which, you can create 3 – a caterpillar, a worm or a baby snake. With a laptop I could Photoshop the shit out of the straw wrapper and make Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Fucking Kingdom. I wish I was more like tap tappy Princeton t-shirt guy, and clickey red shorts with “Lifeguard” on the ass girl. You look like you have a significant purpose in life and important role in society that may involve a library or an office. The burping and farting cat making origami worms out of straw wrappers is looking a wee bit lowbrow for this scene. Damn, I wish I was home masturbating…

Another thing I’ve started to do with my “me” time is to run around in Central Park. Running around in Central Park is a great way for me to get a little exercise and a great way to keep from masturbating. It’s also a great way to test drive the new “me”. The more cute joggers that make eye contact with you Bryan, theoretically, the easier it will be for you get back on your feet again – you’re so money Murphy, like 1982 Burt Fucking Reynolds money! The less eye contact you make – well, it’s probably because you let yourself go man, so it’s a good thing you’re out jogging you non-laptop having fat ass.

Have you noticed on a hot summer day that strange buzzing sound you hear that seems to emanate from nowhere and everywhere? Is it a satellite broadcast of communist propaganda? Actually, it’s emitted by an insect called the cicada. Right now in Central Park, you’ll hear the almost nonstop buzzing of the male cicadas. The sound is used primarily to organize the formation of the proletariat into a class, overthrow of the bourgeois supremacy and conquest of political power by the proletariat – or as an attempt to attract a mate. They do this all day. Then they mate. Then they die.

Cicadas spend most of their life underground. It has been suggested that some of the large species of cicada may live underground as nymphs for around 6-7 years. This would explain why adult cicadas are much more abundant during some seasons that others, with peaks occurring every few years. The periodical cicadas of North America spend 13 or 17 years underground. In contrast to that of the nymph, the life of adult cicadas is very short, lasting only a short few weeks in which they mate, lay eggs and die.

The loud noise produced by some singing cicadas actually repels birds, probably because the noise is painful to the birds’ ears and interferes with their normal communication. The males of many cicada species tend to group together when calling which increases the total volume of noise and reduces the chances of bird predation. Excerpts via: www.amonline.net.au

Running to the park, I contemplated being single again. I was in a relatively short relationship – it was cool - now it’s over. Now I have to start over. I’ve done it before. But how long should I wait? Do I even want to right now? I’m alone - I mean single, yea single. That’s cool, right? Do I still have game? Why am even I thinking about this? Ah phooey, when can we get home and masturbate?

I’ve had relationships I’ll never really be over and relationships I’m really glad ended. Whatever led to each end, I like to think I’ve taken something different away from each experience. At the end though, they all seem to leave me at the same place. Exactly where I find myself now - at the base camp of “now what?” mountain.

I suddenly came across this.

It looks like one of those Insecticons from the Transformers - but very real, and very disgusting. It’s a cicada. Well, a dead cicada.

I found it heading to the park. Once in the park, I was all about the cicada because of the constant commie propaganda buzzing from the trees. I started to think about cicadas and their short adult life. A few weeks above ground trying to mate, avoid being eaten by birds and then dying.

Comrades - being a cicada sucks.

You have one chance to get it right, and then you die. Even if you don’t get it right, you still die. Right or wrong, you could easily get eaten by a bird and die.

I’m okay with being “alone”. Honestly. But everyone wants to have someone try to keep from burping and farting around. Or in an ideal case, someone totally comfortable with it.

Being single Murphy again has me thinking “Did my time to get it right already pass me by, will I not ever get it right - or has my time just not arrived yet?” I look down in my hand at the green body of my little friend and think fortunately, I have a more than a few weeks to figure it all out. In the meantime, I’ll work on my pinko commie mating call and do my best to avoid being eaten by birds.

Now excuse me. I’m going to go masturbate….